UC-NRLF 


111 


FRED  LOCKLEY 

RARE  WESTERN  BOOKS 

4227  S.  E.  Stark  St. 
PORTLAND.  ORE. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS 


AXD 


POEMS 


ORSAMUS    CHAKLES    DAKE 


POTT  &  AMERY, 

COOPER    UXIOX,    NEW  YORK. 

1871. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871,  by 

ORSAMUS  CHARLES  DAKE, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  in  Washington. 


THE  NEW  YORK  PRINTING'  COMPANY, 

205,  207,  209,  211,  213  EAST  12in  STREET 


TO    MY    EVER    CLOSE    COMPANION 

AND    THE    BLESSING    OF    MY    LIFE, 

TO    THE    MOTHER    OF    MY    CHILDREN, 

TO    MY    WIFE, 

BE    INSCRIBED    THIS    LITTLE    VOLUME  ; 

AH,    MIGHT    IT    BECOME    A    COLUMN 

SURE    AS    BRONZE    OR   FLINTY    MARBLE, 

TO    OUTLAST    THE    AGES    SOLEMN, 

IT    SHOULD    PROVE    HOW    MUCH    I    O\VE    HER 

AND    A    NAME    DESERVED    BESTOW    HER. 


M18I46 


8  PREFACE. 

rupted  by  intercourse  with  the  whites,  his  nature  was 
simple,  affectionate,  childlike.  Certainly  he  is  no 
worse  than  the  old  pagan  Greeks  of  Homer  and  the 
Dramatists,  wrho  were  separated  into  little  tribes,  for 
ever  at  war,  and  whose  common  occupation  was  the 
sacking  of  towns  and  the  carrying  off  of  defenceless 
women  for  concubines.  Every  inducement,  therefore, 
that  could  urge  an  ancient  poet  to  portray  prehis 
toric  peoples  as  chivalrous  and  of  a  sustained  dignity, 
should  impel  the  writer  of  to-day  to  do  likewise. 
Elemental  poetic  conditions  do  not  change. 

Should  time  and  space  be  granted  me,  I  hope,  at 
no  distant  day,  to  again  make  trial  of  the  public 
favor.  Certain  ideas,  originated  by  social  aspects, 
have  long  lain  in  my  mind,  and  I  should  be  glad  to 
work  them  into  a  poem.  This,  however,  must  de 
pend  upon  the  time  and  strength  snatched  from 
duties  of  a  more  practical  kind. 

FREMONT,  NEBRASKA,  September  20,  1870. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

PREFACE       .        .  .        .        .    *    .   4    .      ''?      .      7 

THE  WEEPING  WATER    .        .  '     .  .        .        .        11 

THE  RAW  HIDE 53 

THE  PRAISE  OP  NEW  LANDS 75 

NEBRASKA  IN  1806 .89 

THE  MISSOURI          .        .        .        .  .        .        .        93 

GRAPING      .        .        .        ,        .        .  .        .        .97 

THE  DEATH  OF  THE  STAG 103 

To  THE  SOUTH  WIND         .        .        .        .....  105 

RALLYING  SONG— 1864     .       .       .        .       .       .       .      Ill 

THE  UNKNOWN  SAIL  AT  NANTUCKET        .        .        .        .113 

FAIR  AND  FRAIL     .        .        .        .        ...        .       .      117 

THE  FORGOTTEN  POET        ...  .121 


10  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

To  ZEPHYR 123 

MISTHER  O'FLANAGAN'S  ADVOISE  TIL  A  CUNTHRYMAN     .  125 

LONGING  • 129 

NEBRASKA,  DEAR  NEBRASKA 131 

LOTHAIR •        •      135 

MAGDALEN        , 137 

RELIGIOUS    POEMS. 

ASPIRATION 149 

SAD  HEART,  Sow  IN  TEARS 151 

IT  MATTERS  NOT 153 

CHRISTMAS  EVE— 1869    .       .     ,..,        .        .        .        .      157 
RELIGIOUS  DIVISIONS 159 


THE  WEEPING  WATER 


THE  Omaha  and  Otoe  Indians,  being  at  war,  chanced  to  meet  on 
their  common  hunting-ground  south  of  the  Platte  River,  in  Nebraska. 
A  fierce  battle  ensued,  in  which  all  the  male  warriors  of  both  tribes 
being  slain,  the  women  and  children  came  upon  the  battle-field  and 
sat  down  and  wept.  From  the  fountain  of  their  tears  arose  and  ever 
flows  the  little  stream  known  as  Ne-hawka,  or  the  Weeping  Water. 


I. 

THE  lingering  suns  crept  round  a  land  at  peace, 
While  June,  warm-eyed,  was  loitering  in  the  vales. 
Long-gone  was  seed-time ;  and  the  sportive  birds 
Flew  through  broad-bladed  corn,  or  'mid  the  bloom 
Of  yellow  melon-flowers,  where  slope  the  fields 
Down  to  the  Elkhorn  stream. 

But  there  was  one 

Among  the  Otoe  lodges  on  the  bluffs 
Full  envious  of  the  mated  cheerful  birds — 
He,  Sananona  named,  o'  the  Iron  Eyes. 
Who,  dreaming  long  in  virtuous  discontent 
For  that  the  summer  kindled  in  his  blood 
And  all  his  life  grew  languorous  for  his  love, 
Came  with  the  sunrise  to  the  wealthy  lodge 
Of  his  sole  chief,  Shosguscan.     Him  he  found 
Sitting  without,  on  soft  Cayote  robes — 
1 


U  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

One  idle  hand  with  a  pet  dog  a-toy, 

And  in  his  mouth  his  pipe  of  blood-red  stone. 

Mutely  expectant,  then,  the  young  man  stood, 

While  grim  Shosguscan,  with  half-opened  eyes, 

Looked  subtly  in  the  tell-tale,  wishful  face, 

'Gainst  which  the  level  sunbeams  pushed  their  spears ; 

But  all  was  silent  save  the  sighing  wind. 

At  length  the  sage  chief  spoke  :  "  It  is  no  foe 
Lurking  amidst  our  corn-fields,  nor  wise  thought 
Of  public  welfare  brings  thee  here,  I  see. 
What  wouldst  thou,  Sananona  ?  " 

As  when  first 

A  school-boy,  trapped  in  frivolous  mischief,  writhes 
Like  a  hurt  worm  beneath  the  master's  eye, 
But,  finding  no  excuse,  confesses  all, 
Young  Sananona,  glancing  right  and  left, 
Abashed  and  humbled  thus  to  tell  his  love, 
Unveiled  his  heart. 

"  Mine  are  the  wants  of  youth, 
Oh,  great  Shosguscan — youth,  thou  knowest,  has  wants. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  15 

To  be  the  victor  in  all  manly  sports, 

To  tireless  chase  the  flying  antelope, 

To  battle  all  day  long  with  worthy  foes — 

These  are  youth's  wants  :  but  youth  has  wants  besides. 

On  windy  nights  I  sit  within  my  door 

Voiceless  and  lonely,  for  I  lack  a  mate. 

Small  need  is  mine  to  hunt  the  shaggy  bull, 

Or  lure  the  wary  pickerel  from  the  lake — 

Success  is  bootless  where  it  is  unshared." 

Here  grim  Shosguscan,  with  impatient  yawn — 

"  Oh  !     Ah  !     Well,  take  a  wife  !  " 

"  That  would  I  do," 
Quoth  Sananona. 

"  And  what  hinders  then  ?  "     • 
Shosguscan  cried.     "  Go,  make  deliberate  choice 
Among  our  dark-eyed  girls,  and  her  lead  home 
That  best  befits  your  mind  !     And  wherefore  here  ? 
Why  speak  to  me  of  maids,  and  windy  nights, 
And  sentimental  loneliness  ?     Not  I — 
I  am  no  tier  of  true-lovers'  knots, 
No  go-between  for  billing  boys  and  girls, 


16  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

No  dealer  in  love-simples  for  sore  hearts. 

I  hold  myself  for  something  different. 

I  am  a  warrior,  Sananona,  I — 

A  man  of  mighty  battles  and  of  blood. 

Mine  is  the  voice  of  wisdom  in  our  tribe — 

The  hand  that  guides  and  rales.     Not  me  for  love, 

Not  me  for  maidens  seek  ;  but  find  some  crone 

That,  as  a  quacking  duck  along  the  streams, 

Leads  forth  her  timorous  brood !    Go  !    Go  !  young  man, 

From  women  seek  your  mate  !  " 

Against  this  scorn 

Wrathful  and  black  young  Sananona  stood. 
But  as  before  his  nation's  chief  befits 
A  youth  to  stand  with  quiet  modesty 
And  humbled  self-importance,  so  he  paused 
To  smother  impulse  and  select  his  words. 
"  I  am  not  here  to  seek  your  offices, 
Oh,  brave  Shosguscan,  as  a  go-between. 
I  ask  no  man  to  win  a  maid  for  rne. 
I  best  can  tell  the  secret  I  best  know. 
But  this  my  errand  :  she  who  has  my  heart, 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  17 

And  whom  with  pure  and  honorable  rites 

I  would  install  as  mistress  of  my  lodge, 

Is  not  an  Otoe  ;  dwells  not  by  the  stream 

Of  the  swift  Elkhorn  ;  but  among  the  tents 

Of  warlike  Omahas — a  handsome  race — 

She  honors  womanhood  and  waits  for  me. 

Her  tribesmen  know  our  troth,  and  are  content." 

"  So  you  would  bring  a  foreign  woman  here  !  " 
Cried  harsh  Shosguscan.     "  One  who,  in  the  days 
Of  vigilant  warfare,  shall  forewarn  her  friends, 
Bringing  defeat  to  counsel : — one  whose  heart 
Shall  evermore  be  flying  to  the  fields 
Wherein  her  childhood  played,  and  to  the  light 
Of  kindly  faces  she  may  see  no  more. 
Have  Otoe  maidens,  then,  no  amorous  grace  ? 
The  daughters  of  your  fathers, — are  they  worse 
Or  less  attractive  than  this  alien  girl  ? 
Why  shame  your  people  thus  ?  " 

Then  gravely  spoke 
The  Iron-Eyed  :  "  I  cannot  read  my  heart 


18  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

To  say  why  this  I  choose,  why  that  reject. 
I  follow  love's  blind  instinct.     If  I  err, 
Mine  is  the  error  common  to  our  race. 
But  love  that  blindly  leads  is  seldom  wrong, 
For  most  are  happy  in  their  wedded  loves. 
Indifferent  I  see  our  Otoe  girls  ; 
But  when  Nacoumah,  in  the  April  days, 
I  met  among  her  people,  then  my  heart 
Rose  up  and  followed  after.     Oh,  rny  chief, 
Respect  my  hopes,  I  pray,  and  bid  me  go 
To  hither  bring  the  maiden  of  the  North, 
And  I,  in  times  of  danger,  with  my  life 
Will  answer  for  her  loyalty  !  " 

Then  stood 

The  youth  expectant,  pleading  with  his  face 
That  mirrored  forth  the  hopes  and  fears  within, 
As  the  great  Platte,  when  low  in  autumn  days 
Near  to  its  islands  on  its  glassy  wave 
Reveals  the  woodlands  and  the  forest-life. 
And  stern  Shosguscan,  musing  on  his  face 
And  running  over  all  the  honored  past, 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  19 

When  Sananona,  in  the  thickest  fight, 

Had  borne  the  brunt  of  battle  with  the  best, 

And  wrought  great  deeds,  and  won  the  hearts  of  all, 

Wavered,  inclined  to  grant  his  moving  suit, 

And  bid  him  seek  his  maid  and  bring  her  home. 

But  swift  succeeded  thoughts  of  what  was  best 

For  general  welfare,  and  the  answer  he 

Not  for  himself,  led  by  a  yielding  heart, 

But  for  his  tribe  should  make.     Then  thus  he  said  : 

"  Oh,  Sananona,  much  I  long  to  yield 

This  boyish  quest,  for  I,  too,  have  been  young. 

I  know  how  whimsical  this  youthful  love — 

With  what  caprices  unaccountable 

The  youth  selects  his  maid,  the  maid  her  man. 

I  know  how  disappointment  pricks,  and  how 

The  heart,  defeated  of  its  cherished  aim, 

Knots  its  great  arteries  and  swells  with  sighs 

And  strives  to  burst.     And  1  would  spare  all  pain  : 

But  this  I  know — for  I,  too,  have  been  young — 

That  love  has  lives  as  many  as  the  bear, 

That,  being  filled  with  arrows  and  with  spears, 


20  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

'Scapes  to  the  hills,  plucks  forth  the  barbs,  and  grows, 

Erelong,  as  vigorous  as  before.     To-day, 

None  like  Nacoumah  :  but  ere  wintry  suns 

Waste  nebulous  glances  in  the  frozen  gales, 

Some  other  maiden  will  inspire  your  sighs  ; 

For  youth  runs  lightly  into  any  love. 

Oh,  be  advised  !     Go  seek  an  Otoe  bride. 

Dismiss  this  passion  ;  it  will  work  your  bale — 

Nor  you  alone,  but  all.     Go  !  *' 

And  he  went. 

Straight  to  his  lodge  the  young  brave  went,  and  closed 
His  door,  and  with  himself  communed.     As  one 
Who,  whirling  through  the  country  by  a  train 
That  flies  the  track  and  plunges  down  a  steep. 
Picks  himself  out  from  shattered  heaps  of  cars 
And  smutched  and  mangled  bodies  of  the  dead  ; 
Then  feels  along  each  bruised  limb  with  care, 
And  slowly  breathes  to  test  if  hurts  within 
Threaten  life's  citadel ;  so  all  his  heart 
Sad  Sananona  to  himself  exposed, 
And  weighed  Nacoumah  'gainst  the  Otoe  girls, 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  21 

And  said,  at  length,  "  No  other  wife  for  me 

But  she  who  has  my  heart !     This  argument 

Shosguscan  holds  about  a  light-heeled  love 

That  dances  like  a  reed-blade  in  the  wind 

Hither  and  thither,  without  settled  bound, 

Suits  him,  perhaps — not  me.     Come  then  what  may  : 

If  brief  my  life,  it  now  is  summer-time, 

And  a  few  sun-bright  days  of  well-placed  love 

I  stake  against  the  wrath  of  all  my  tribe." 

So,  sauntering  to  the  valley  with  a  line 

As  one  on  pensive  piscatory  bent, 

Soon  as  the  woodlands  hid  his  stealthy  course 

He  northward  turned,  and  sought  and  found  his  bride. 

II. 

And  days  went  by — the  laughing  days  of  June : 
But  yet  the  Otoe  was  supplied  with  meat 
And  wrought  no  havoc  with  the  flocks  of  God, 
But  let  the  days  in  aimless  waste  go  by 
Amid  his  wives  in  the  well-furnished  lodge, 
Content  with  peace, — with  idleness  and  peace. 
1* 


22  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

But  when,  at  length,  the  women  raised  a  wail 
Of  shortening  substance  and  the  grim-eyed  wolf, 
He  rose,  as  one  from  sleep,  and  felt  his  strength — 
Stretching  his  sinews  in  the  pleasant  sun. 
And  as  an  eagle  whets  his  murderous  beak 
Upon  the  tree-top  and  the  granite-ledge, 
Or  practises  in  cloud-land  his  fell  swoop, 
When,  dropping  from  immeasurable  heights 
A  thousand  fathoms  down,  we  see  him  first 
A  speck  in  the  abyss,  then  soars  and  falls, 
Rises  and  sinks  again  and  yet  again, 
Each  time  descending  lower,  until,  at  last, 
He  hovers  o'er  his  nest  and  settles  there, 
The  hunter  filed  his  flinty  arrow-heads, 
Sharpened  the  hatchet  and  the  dreadful  knife, 
And  day  by  day  bent  to  athletic  games — 
To  run  long  miles,  to  leap  a  miry  brook, 
To  shoot  a  reed-mark,  and  to  overthrow 
His  mighty  tribesmen  in  the  wrestler's  toils, 
Winning  great  fame,  and  mastering  his  powers, 
Until,  fatigued,  at  evening  home  was  sweet. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  23 

But  when  the  moon  was  rounding  night  by  night, 
And  the  green  hills  were  flooded  with  its  bath 
Of  silver-streaming  light,  through  which  far  swam 
The  sentinel  eye — distrustful  of  surprise — 
The  Otoe  passed  the  threshold  of  his  lodge 
In  the  great  village  on  the  Elkhom  bluffs, 
Called  forth  his  thronging  progeny  and  wives, 
And  wended  to  the  south. 

So  fared  they  forth — 
The  inspiration  of  necessity 
Their  constant  guide — as  through  long  ages,  back 
To  the  abnormal  hour  that  bore  to  time 
Their  changeless  race.     But  aptly  framed  their  rules 
For  a  rude  justice,  and  the  lack  of  law 
Custom,  the  precedent  of  use,  supplied. 
Among  their  bands  no  daft  reformer  rose 
To  paint  the  visions  of  his  flighty  soul, 
And  lead  to  lands  hung  toppling  in  the  air, 
But  childlike  and  content  they  held  and  taught, 
Without  abridgment  or  an  added  grain, 
The  simple  faith  their  fathers  left  to  them — 


24  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

•v 

Growing  a  rock-firm  habit  in  their  race. 
So  went  they  forth,  as  went  in  all  past  years, 
And  as  still  go  in  the  deep  spirit-world, 
Their  awful  fathers  and  their  lovely  wives, 
When  on  their  annual  hunts.     The  van  was  led 
By  a  well-chosen  band  of  warriors,  proved 
On  many  a  nameless  but  death-smitten  field. 
These,  mounted  on  swift  steeds — swift  as  the  clouds, 
Low-hung  outriders  of  a  coming  storm — 
Armed  at  all  points  with  bow  and  lofty  lance, 
And  murderous  hatchet  and  the  gleaming  knife, 
Rode  dreadful  on  the  hills  or  through  the  vales, 
Scanning  each  shadow  for  a  foe.     Much  need 
For  caution  was  there.     On  these  hunting-grounds 
The  fearful  Sioux  were  oft  in  battle  met. 
As  when  along  some  blown  Alaskan  vale 
A  herd  of  Caribou  drags  forth  its  length, 
Seeking  for  mosses  underneath  the  snow, 
And  at  the  front  its  antlered  patriarchs 
Explore  the  route  and  lead  the  hinds  and  young, 
That,  feeding,  follow  happy  and  secure. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  25 

Behind  them  streamed  the  families  with  their  goods, 
"\Vomen  and  children  loitering  by  the  way, 
Ponies  with  tent-poles  dragging  at  their  sides, 
And  the  gaunt  pack  that  bays  the  midnight  moon. 
And  all  day  long  before  them  fled  the  game 
Across  the  pleasant  plains,  or  stood  and  eyed 
From  some  low  eminence  of  rounded  hill 
With  timid  curiosity. 

And  thus 

Two  days  they  journeyed  to  the  south  and  west, 
A  June-time  journey  in  a  June-time  mood, 
And  sport  and  love  and  laughter  ruled  the  time. 
But  now  was  reached  a  fair  idyllic  land — 
A  land  of  rolling  meadow,  and  of  rills 
That  rippled  through  the  morning  like  a  voice, 
Or  filled  the  darkness  with  mysterious Yighs. 
Then,  as  ere  eve  the  chief  decreed  to  camp, 
With  noisy  clamor,  as  a  flock  of  crows, 
That,  lighting,  huddle  round  a  lonely  marsh, 
Some  kindle  fires  and  cook  the  generous  meal 
Of  savory  antelope,  or  prairie-hen, 


26  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Or  rabbit,  freshly  caught ;  and  some  brace  fast 

The  lofty  lodge-poles  o'er  an  ample  space, 

And  fold  them  deep  in  warmth-compelling  skins. 

The  women,  as  befits  domestic  wa)<s, 

Spread  the  wide  couch  of  soft  and  well-tanned  robes — 

Beaver,  or  otter,  or  the  delicate  fawn  ; 

And  children  stand  beside  the  glowing  fires, 

Babbling  between  their  mouthfuls  with  full  hands. 

But  ere  the  tasks  were  ended,  or  the  feast 
Palled  on  a  dulled  and  sated  appetite, 
From  out  the  hollow  valleys  of  the  south 
Rose  tawny  mists  of  smoke,  and  clomb  to  heaven, 
And  caught  the  sunset  in  wan  flowing  horns. 
Then  all  the  women  were  aware  of  fear, 
But  every  man  felt  at  his  mighty  heart 
A  sterner  pulsing,  for  his  will  was  firm. 
And,  as  an  oak  that  bears  the  rushing  storm, 
And  quakes  not  at  the  thunder  in  its  strength, 
But  gnarls  and  knots  in  stubborn  pride  of  power, 
So  grew  his  muscles  tense  and  hard  as  twist — 


NEBRASKA  LEGEXDS.  27 

Conditioned  for  a  conflict,  must  it  come. 
But,  as  a  brood  of  wild-cats,  when  a  dog, 
Snuffing  along  the  woodlands,  nears  their  nest, 
Gather  at  once  around  the  faithful  dam, 
The  Otoe  tribesmen  hasten  to  the  lodge 
Of  brave  Shosguscan.     Him  alone  they  found 
Sitting  before  his  tent ;  a  massive  soul, 
And  clear  of  vision  as  the  morning  star. 
Wisdom  and  will  spoke  from  his  lordly  face — 
A  presence  that  bends  others  without  words — 
Incarnate  manhood's  just  authority. 
Thus  as  he  sat,  his  blinkless  eye  full-fixed 
Upon  the  smoke-wreaths  whirling  o'er  the  hills, 
Around  him  came  in  silence  and  sat  down 
His  warlike  tribesmen  :  but  no  word  they  spoke. 
Long-time  he  mused.     At  length  the  deep-toned  voice 
Rose  as  a  full-brimmed  bucket  from  a  well, 
Lifting  its  treasure  for  men's  needs. 
"  Ye  men 

Of  Otoe,  conscious  in  our  strength  to  stand 
Unflinching  in  the  face  of  every  foe, 


28  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

And  in  the  fiercest  battle  to  maintain 

Our  right,  we  wander  through  these  limiting-grounds 

As  inclination  leads.     If  any  doubt 

Our  purpose  of  free  action,  or  our  power 

To  hold  a  ground  once  taken,  let  them  come 

And  put  constraint  upon  us,  bit  our  mouths, 

And  tame  us,  as  a  horse,  to  know  the  rein, 

Or  drive  us  homewards,  as  a  fox  is  sped 

Back  to  its  cover.     In  the  face  of  all 

We  sit  down  here.     We  seek  no  fight,  indeed, 

Nor  do  we  seek  to  shun  one.     For  this  night 

Put  forth  a  double  line  of  sentinels, 

And  let  the  Otoes  sleep  upon  their  arms." 

But,  as  the  brave  Shosguscan  finished  thus, 

An  Omaha,  that,  hunting  through  the  hills, 

Had  from  afar  surveyed  the  Otoe  camp 

And  recognized  the  tribe  by  many  signs, 

Came  in  with  friendly  words,  and  straightway  told 

How  his  own  tribe  were  also  on  the  hunt, 

And  two  days  earlier  wandered  to  the  south, 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  29 

And  had  success  with  buffalo  and  deer  : 
That  theirs  the  camps  deep  in  the  hollow  vales, 
Whose  fires  had  wreathed  the  sunset  in  a  robe 
Of  tinted  mist.     So,  then,  no  thought  remained 
Of  foes  and  war  ;  but,  as  a  man  derives 
In  difficult  places  from  a  true  friend's  face 
Support  and  confidence  and  heedless  ease, 
These  neighbor-tribes,  now  for  a  time  at  peace — 
Equal  in  numbers  and  resource  of  war — 
Felt  each  securer  in  the  other's  might. 

But  on  the  morrow  Sananona,  who 

A  fortnight  had  been  strayed,  was  hailed  by  friends 

And  Otoe  comrades  straggled  for  pastime 

Among  the  Omahas,  as  he  was  seen 

With  sweet  Nacoumah,  now  his  wedded  wife. 

And  straightway  these,  with  garrulous  speech  at  home 

Discoursing  of  the  pair,  their  secret  soon 

Touched  at  Shosguscan's  ear.     And  for  that  he — 

Judicial  even  in  his  social  moods — 

Never  forgave  a  personal  affront 


18  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

To  say  why  this  I  choose,  why  that  reject. 
I  follow  love's  blind  instinct.     If  I  err, 
Mine  is  the  error  common  to  our  race. 
But  love  that  blindly  leads  is  seldom  wrong, 
For  most  are  happy  in  their  wedded  loves. 
Indifferent  I  see  our  Otoe  girls  ; 
But  when  Nacoumah,  in  the  April  days, 
I  met  among  her  people,  then  my  heart 
Eose  up  and  followed  after.     Oh,  my  chief, 
Eespect  my  hopes,  I  pray,  and  bid  me  go 
To  hither  bring  the  maiden  of  the  North, 
And  I,  in  times  of  danger,  with  my  life 
Will  answer  for  her  loyalty  !  " 

Then  stood 

The  youth  expectant,  pleading  with  his  face 
That  mirrored  forth  the  hopes  and  fears  within, 
As  the  great  Platte,  when  low  in  autumn  days 
Near  to  its  islands  on  its  glassy  wave 
Reveals  the  woodlands  and  the  forest-life. 
And  stern  Shosguscan,  musing  on  his  face 
And  running  over  all  the  honored  past, 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  19 

When  Sananona,  in  the  thickest  fight, 

Had  borne  the  brunt  of  battle  with  the  best, 

And  wrought  great  deeds,  and  won  the  hearts  of  all, 

Wavered,  inclined  to  grant  his  moving  suit, 

And  bid  him  seek  his  maid  and  bring  her  home. 

But  swift  succeeded  thoughts  of  what  was  best 

For  general  welfare,  and  the  answer  he 

Not  for  himself,  led  by  a  yielding  heart, 

But  for  his  tribe  should  make.     Then  thus  he  said  : 

"  Oh,  Sananona,  much  I  long  to  yield 

This  boyish  quest,  for  I,  too,  have  been  young. 

I  know  how  whimsical  this  youthful  love — 

With  what  caprices  unaccountable 

The  youth  selects  his  maid,  the  maid  her  man. 

I  know  how  disappointment  pricks,  and  how 

The  heart,  defeated  of  its  cherished  aim, 

Knots  its  great  arteries  and  swells  with  sighs 

And  strives  to  burst.     And  1  would  spare  all  pain  : 

But  this  I  know — for  I,  too,  have  been  young — 

That  love  has  lives  as  many  as  the  bear, 

That,  being  filled  with  arrows  and  with  spears, 


20  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

'Scapes  to  the  hills,  plucks  forth  the  barbs,  and  grows, 

Erelong,  as  vigorous  as  before.     To-day, 

None  like  Nacoumah  :  but  ere  wintry  suns 

Waste  nebulous  glances  in  the  frozen  gales, 

Some  other  maiden  will  inspire  your  sighs  ; 

For  youth  runs  lightly  into  any  love. 

Oh,  be  advised  !     Go  seek  an  Otoe  bride. 

Dismiss  this  passion  ;  it  will  work  your  bale — 

Nor  you  alone,  but  all.     Go  !  " 

And  he  went. 

Straight  to  his  lodge  the  young  brave  went,  and  closed 
His  door,  and  with  himself  communed.     As  one 
Who,  whirling  through  the  country  by  a  train 
That  flies  the  track  and  plunges  down  a  steep, 
Picks  himself  out  from  shattered  heaps  of  cars 
And  smutched  and  mangled  bodies  of  the  dead  ; 
Then  feels  along  each  bruised  limb  with  care, 
And  slowly  breathes  to  test  if  hurts  within 
Threaten  life's  citadel ;  so  all  his  heart 
Sad  Sananona  to  himself  exposed, 
And  weighed  Nacoumah  'gainst  the  Otoe  girls, 


NEBRASKA  LEGEXDS.  21 

And  said,  at  length,  "  No  other  wife  for  me 

But  she  who  has  my  heart !     This  argument 

Shosguscan  holds  about  a  light-heeled  love 

That  dances  like  a  reed-blade  in  the  wind 

Hither  and  thither,  without  settled  bound, 

Suits  him,  perhaps — not  me.     Come  then  what  may  : 

If  brief  my  life,  it  now  is  summer-time, 

And  a  few  sun-bright  days  of  well-placed  love 

I  stake  against  the  wrath  of  all  my  tribe." 

So,  sauntering  to  the  valley  with  a  line 

As  one  on  pensive  piscatory  bent, 

Soon  as  the  woodlands  hid  his  stealthy  course 

He  northward  turned,  and  sought  and  found  his  bride. 

II. 

And  days  went  by — the  laughing  days  of  June : 
But  yet  the  Otoe  was  supplied  with  meat 
And  wrought  no  havoc  with  the  flocks  of  God, 
But  let  the  days  in  aimless  waste  go  by 
Amid  his  wives  in  the  wrell-furnished  lodge, 
Content  with  peace, — with  idleness  and  peace. 
1* 


22  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

But  when,  at  length,  the  women  raised  a  wail 
Of  shortening  substance  and  the  grim-eyed  wolf, 
He  rose,  as  one  from  sleep,  and  felt  his  strength — 
Stretching  his  sinews  in  the  pleasant  sun. 
And  as  an  eagle  whets  his  murderous  beak 
Upon  the  tree-top  and  the  granite-ledge, 
Or  practises  in  cloud-land  his  fell  swoop, 
When,  dropping  from  immeasurable  heights 
A  thousand  fathoms  down,  we  see  him  first 
A  speck  in  the  abyss,  then  soars  and  falls, 
Rises  and  sinks  again  and  yet  again, 
Each  time  descending  lower,  until,  at  last, 
He  hovers  o'er  his  nest  and  settles  there, 
The  hunter  filed  his  flinty  arrow-heads, 
Sharpened  the  hatchet  and  the  dreadful  knife, 
And  day  by  day  bent  to  athletic  games — 
To  run  long  miles,  to  leap  a  miry  brook, 
To  shoot  a  reed-mark,  and  to  overthrow 
His  mighty  tribesmen  in  the  wrestler's  toils, 
Winning  great  fame,  and  mastering  his  powers, 
Until,  fatigued,  at  evening  home  was  sweet. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  23 

« 

But  when  the  moon  was  rounding  night  by  night, 
And  the  green  hills  were  flooded  with  its  bath 
Of  silver-streaming  light,  through  which  far  swam 
The  sentinel  eye — distrustful  of  surprise — 
The  Otoe  passed  the  threshold  of  his  lodge 
In  the  great  village  on  the  Elkhorn  bluffs, 
Called  forth  his  thronging  progeny  and  wives, 
And  wended  to  the  south. 

So  fared  they  forth — 
The  inspiration  of  necessity 
Their  constant  guide — as  through  long  ages,  back 
To  the  abnormal  hour  that  bore  to  time 
Their  changeless  race.     But  aptly  framed  their  rules 
For  a  rude  justice,  and  the  lack  of  law 
Custom,  the  precedent  of  use,  supplied. 
Among  their  bands  no  daft  reformer  rose 
To  paint  the  visions  of  his  flighty  soul, 
And  lead  to  lands  hung  toppling  in  the  air, 
But  childlike  and  content  they  held  and  taught. 
Without  abridgment  or  an  added  grain, 
The  simple  faith  their  fathers  left  to  them — 


24  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

* 

Growing  a  rock-firm  habit  in  their  race. 
So  went  they  forth,  as  went  in.  all  past  years, 
And  as  still  go  in  the  deep  spirit-world, 
Their  awful  fathers  and  their  lovely  wives, 
When  on  their  annual  hunts.     The  van  was  led 
By  a  well-chosen  band  of  warriors,  proved 
On  many  a  nameless  but  death-smitten  field. 
These,  mounted  on  swift  steeds — swift  as  the  clouds, 
Low-hung  outriders  of  a  coming  storm — 
Armed  at  all  points  with  bow  and  lofty  lance, 
And  murderous  hatchet  and  the  gleaming  knife, 
Rode  dreadful  on  the  hills  or  through  the  vales, 
Scanning  each  shadow  for  a  foe.     Much  need 
For  caution  was  there.     On  these  hunting-grounds 
The  fearful  Sioux  were  oft  in  battle  met. 
As  when  along  some  blown  Alaskan  vale 
A  herd  of  Caribou  drags  forth  its  length, 
Seeking  for  mosses  underneath  the  snow, 
And  at  the  front  its  antlered  patriarchs 
Explore  the  route  and  lead  the  hinds  and  young, 
That,  feeding,  follow  happy  and  secure. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  25 

Behind  them  streamed  the  families  with  their  goods, 
Women  and  children  loitering  by  the  way, 
Ponies  with  tent-poles  dragging  at  their  sides, 
And  the  gaunt  pack  that  bays  the  midnight  moon. 
And  all  day  long  before  them  fled  the  game 
Across  the  pleasant  plains,  or  stood  and  eyed 
From  some  low  eminence  of  rounded  hill 
"With  timid  curiosity. 

And  thus 

Two  days  they  journeyed  to  the  south  and  west, 
A  June-time  journey  in  a  June-time  mood, 
And  sport  and  love  and  laughter  ruled  the  time. 
But  now  was  reached  a  fair  idyllic  land — 
A  land  of  rolling  meadow,  and  of  rills 
That  rippled  through  the  morning  like  a  voice, 
Or  filled  the  darkness  with  mysterious"  sighs. 
Then,  as  ere  eve  the  chief  decreed  to  camp, 
With  noisy  clamor,  as  a  flock  of  crows,. 
That,  lighting,  huddle  round  a  lonely  marsh, 
Some  kindle  fires  and  cook  the  generous  meal 
Of  savory  antelope,  or  prairie-hen, 


26  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Or  rabbit,  freshly  caught ;  and  some  brace  fast 
The  lofty  lodge-poles  o'er  an  ample  space, 
And  fold  them  deep  in  warmth-compelling  skins. 
The  women,  as  befits  domestic  wa^s, 
Spread  the  wide  couch  of  soft  and  well-tanned  robes- 
Beaver,  or  otter,  or  the  delicate  fawn  ; 
And  children  stand  beside  the  glowing  fires, 
Babbling  between  their  mouthfuls  with  full  hands. 

But  ere  the  tasks  were  ended,  or  the  feast 
Palled  on  a  dulled  and  sated  appetite, 
From  out  the  hollow  valleys  of  the  south 
Hose  tawny  mists  of  smoke,  and  clomb  to  heaven, 
And  caught  the  sunset  in  wan  flowing  horns. 
Then  all  the  women  were  aware  of  fear, 
But  every  man  felt  at  his  mighty  heart 
A  sterner  pulsing,  for  his  will  was  firm. 
And,  as  an  oak  that  bears  the  rushing  storm, 
And  quakes  not  at  the  thunder  in  its  strength, 
But  gnarls  and  knots  in  stubborn  pride  of  power, 
So  grew  his  muscles  tense  and  hard  as  twist — 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  27 

Conditioned  for  a  conflict,  must  it  come. 
But,  as  a  brood  of  wild-cats,  when  a  dog, 
Snuffing  along  the  woodlands,  nears  their  nest, 
Gather  at  once  around  the  faithful  dam, 
The  Otoe  tribesmen  hasten  to  the  lodge 
Of  brave  Shosguscan.     Him  alone  they  found 
Sitting  before  his  tent ;  a  massive  soul, 
And  clear  of  vision  as  the  morning  star. 
Wisdom  and  will  spoke  from  his  lordly  face — 
A  presence  that  bends  others  without  words — 
Incarnate  manhood's  just  authority. 
Thus  as  he  sat,  his  blinkless  eye  full-fixed 
Upon  the  smoke- wreaths  whirling  o'er  the  hills, 
Around  him  came  in  silence  and  sat  down 
His  warlike  tribesmen  :  but  no  word  they  spoke. 
Long-time  he  mused.     At  length  the  deep-toned  voice 
Eose  as  a  full-brimmed  bucket  from  a  well, 
Lifting  its  treasure  for  men's  needs. 
"  Ye  men 

Of  Otoe,  conscious  in  our  strength  to  stand 
Unflinching  in  the  face  of  every  foe, 


28  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

And  in  the  fiercest  battle  to  maintain 

Our  right,  we  wander  through  these  hunting-grounds 

As  inclination  leads.     If  any  doubt 

Our  purpose  of  free  action,  or  our  power 

To  hold  a  ground  once  taken,  let  them  come 

And  put  constraint  upon  us,  bit  our  mouths, 

And  tame  us,  as  a  horse,  to  know  the  rein, 

Or  drive  us  homewards,  as  a  fox  is  sped 

Back  to  its  cover.     In  the  face  of  all 

We  sit  down  here.     We  seek  no  fight,  indeed, 

Nor  do  we  seek  to  shun  one.     For  this  ir>ht 

o 

Put  forth  a  double  line  of  sentinels, 
And  let  the  Otoes  sleep  upon" their  arms." 

But,  as  the  brave  Shosguscan  finished  thus, 

An  Omaha,  that,  hunting  through  the  hills, 

Had  from  afar  surveyed  the  Otoe  camp 

And  recognized  the  tribe  by  many  signs, 

Came  in  with  friendly  words,  and  straightway  told 

How  his  own  tribe  were  also  on  the  hunt, 

And  two  days  earlier  wandered  to  the  south, 


NEBRASKA  LEGEXDS.  29 

And  had  success  with  buffalo  and  deer  : 
That  theirs  the  camps  deep  in  the  hollow  vales, 
Whose  fires  had  wreathed  the  sunset  in  a  robe 
Of  tinted  mist.     So,  then,  no  thought  remained 
Of  foes  and  war  ;  but,  as  a  man  derives 
In  difficult  places  from  a  true  friend's  face 
Support  and  confidence  and  heedless  ease, 
These  neighbor-tribes,  now  for  a  time  at  peace — 
Equal  in  numbers  and  resource  of  war — 
Felt  each  securer  in  the  other's  might. 

But  on  the  morrow  Sananona,  who 

A  fortnight  had  been  strayed,  was  hailed  by  friends 

And  Otoe  comrades  straggled  for  pastime 

Among  the  Omahas,  as  he  was  seen 

"With  sweet  Nacoumah,  now  his  wedded  wife. 

And  straightway  these,  with  garrulous  speech  at  home 

Discoursing  of  the  pair,  their  secret  soon 

Touched  at  Shosguscan's  ear.     And  for  that  he — 

Judicial  even  in  his  social  moods — 

Never  forgave  a  personal  affront 


30  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Or  question  of  opinion,  but  was  stern, 

And,  as  the  ice  upon  a  wintry  stream, 

Cold  and  inflexible ;  forthwith  he  sent 

Two  valiant  warriors,  creatures  of  his  own, 

To  summon  Sananona  from  his  bride, 

And  bid  him  haste  to  his  paternal  chief, 

Who  for  his  absence  felt  a  deep  concern. 

But  Sananona,  with  shrewd  speech,  declined. 

Too  well  he  guessed  the  great  obnoxious  paw 

Of  the  fierce  panther,  that  o'ertakes  the  herds 

Among  the  mountain  valleys  by  the  Platte, 

Was  lighter  than  his  chief's  official  hand. 

But,  as  the  Otoe  heralds  homeward  turned, 

lie  to  his  new-made  friends  and  kinsmen  ran, 

And,  gathering  them — a  listening  group — apart, 

Thus  spoke  :  "  O  friends,  O  brethren,  now — for  such 

To  me  ye  are,  since  he  who  weds  a  wife 

Becomes  more  surely  member  of  her  house 

Than  she  of  his — I  claim  your  aid  to-day. 

When  first  I  saw  Nacoumah,  my  cold  heart — 

That  in  its  chamber  dragged  a  numb,  dead  life, 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  31 

As,  in  some  hollow  trunk  through  wintry  days 

Pent  by  the  frigid  darkness,  clings  the  bee — 

Flew,  like  the  bee  in  Spring-time,  when  the  breast 

Of  the  broad  prairie  sparkles  into  bloom 

With  flowers  of  every  hue,  and  found  in  her 

Its  treasure  and  its  rest.     With  your  consent, 

Her  have  I  taken  in  all  proper  rites 

To  share  my  lodge  and  life.     But  skies  grow  foul. 

This  very  hour  Shosguscan,  my  tribe's  chief, 

By  embassy  sent  secretly  to  me, 

Commands  my  presence  at  his  lodge,  intent 

To  force  me  from  my  bride.     Stern,  harsh  is  he — 

Inflexible,  and  lightly  holds  youth's  love. 

Now  would  he  widow  her  whom  I  have  wed, 

And  punish  preference  that  goes  from  home. 

But  you,  good  friends,  I  know  your  generous  will, 

Your  courage,  and  your  might.     And  more  I  know ; 

I  know  you  honor  natural  love  and  grief, 

And  hate  oppression  that  has  no  excuse. 

Be  with  me,  then,  I  pray,  in  this  dire  strait, 

Nor  let  the  chief  Shosguscan  snatch  me  hence  ! 


32  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Much  do  I  fear,  lest  coming  with  a  "band 
Of  sturdy  warriors  trained  to  work  his  will, 
He  seize  me  suddenly.     That  danger  past, 
We  may  conclude  this  matter  happily 
In  council,  tribe  with  tribe." 

Forthwith  replied 

Nacoumah's  uncle,  chief  Watonashie — 
Watonashie,  among  the  Omahas 
Highest  in  rank  :  "  O  Sananona,  hear  ! 
No  harm  shall  reach  you  without  due  offence. 
I,  these  our  kinfolk,  all  our  warlike  tribe, 
Will  take  due  care  that  bold  Shosguscan  comes 
Not  here,  nor  plays  at  force  near  us,  unless — 
Indeed,"  and  now  Watonashie  looked'grave 
As  one  abstracted  in  a  passing  thought, 
And  fingered  with  his  mighty  hand  the  plumes 
Fixed  in  the  tough,  smooth  handle  of  his  spear- 
"  Unless,  indeed,  he  try  a  game  of  war, 
And  do  his  worst,  and  hazard  all." 

Thus,  then, 
The  Omahas,  alert  to  aid  the  youth 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  33 

Whose  fault  seemed  but  the  natural  human  way, 
Stood  forth  to  champion  him  'gainst  his  own  tribe, 
And  kept  a  wary  watch. 

Meanwhile  the  two 

Sent  by  Shosguscan  for  the  Iron-Eyed 
Came  empty-handed  back  and  told  their  tale. 
Then  from  his  seat  wrathful  Shosguscan  rose — 
Zealous  for  his  despised  authority — 
And,  gathering  a  score  of  stalwart  braves 
Strode  o'er  the  hills  and  neared  the  wealthy  tents 
Of  the  stout-hearted  Omahas.     And,  when 
Not  turning  right  or  left,  as  bent  to  work 
Only  his  errand  and  no  parley  hold, 
He  pushed  direct  for  Sananona's  lodge, 
Sudden,  across  his  pathway,  shot  a  bar — 
Large-limbed  Watonashie  and  warriors  fierce, 
A  host,  who  never  turned  away  from  war. 

So  then  Watonashie  :  "  Friend,  wherefore  here  ? 
What  means  this  show  of  force  1     This  is  no  place 
To  venture  in  rude  guise  of  war." 


34  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

As  when 

A  gaunt  wolf,  wandering  near  the  guarded  folds, 
Falls  in  a  trap  of  close  serrated  steel, 
And,  stung  by  pain  and  maddened  in  his  mind 
Pulls  at  the  chain  and  tests  the  firm  trap's  strength, 
But,  mastered,  yields  at  last,  the  Otoe  chief 
Paused  in  the  presence  of  superior  force, 
His  keen  eye  flashing  forth  impatient  wrath, 
And  thus  replied  :  "  I  come  to  claim  my  right. 
Great  chief,  you  know  me  well.     Within  your  tents 
There  lurks  one  Sananona,  who  is  mine. 
For  him  alone  I  come.     No  blade  of  grass 
That's  yours  would  we  disturb.     We  ask  our  own — 
Just  that.     Give  me  the  hiding  fugitive, 
And  let  our  tribes  be  friends  as  heretofore." 

Then  spoke  Watonashie,  great-hearted  chief: 
"  Young  Sananona  is,  indeed,  with  us, 
And  wedded  to  a  maiden  of  our  blood — 
Nacoumah,  niece  of  mine.     A  nobler  pair 
Were  never  matched ; — he,  tall  and  lithe  of  form 


NEBRASKA   LEGEXDS.  35 

As  panther  bred  'mid  Black  Hill  spines,  and  she 
Soft  as  the  moonlight  of  a  night  in  May. 
Much  do  I  love  them — I  who  have  no  sons 
Or  daughters,  childless  chief.     So  I  do  pray 
If  Sananona,  for  some  venial  fault, 
Has  merited  your  wrath,  this  timely  day 
You  speak  his  pardon  and  receive  his  thanks, 
And  make  him  happy  in  his  sweet-faced  bride — 
For  his  sake  and  for  mine.     So  shall  there  be 
Peace  and  a  happy  auspice  for  both  tribes." 

But  promptly  sage  Shosguscan  answered  him  : 

"  This  youth,  great  chief,  for  whom  you  plead  so  well, 

With  headstrong  purpose  and  for  boyish  whim 

Has  broken  rule,  and  furnished  precedent 

To  other  youths  and  maids  and  sturdy  braves 

To  scorn  authority.     In  every  tribe 

Order  stands  only  in  obedience  ; 

And  he  who  rules  soon  loses  just  respect 

If  culprits  may  escape  unscathed.     So  now 

I  cannot  fault  like  his  condone.     All  men 


36  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Have  friends  to  plead  in  their  excuse  ;  and  faults, 
Beginning  small,  pass  quickly  on  to  worse. 
Confusions  come,  and  anarchy  and  hate. 
A  fountain,  as  it  rises,  may  be  choked, 
But  none  can  quell  a  river." 

Slowly,  then, 

Watonashie,  as  one  half-musing,  said  : 
"  How  much  man  prizes  selfish  sovereignty. 
He  makes  a  rule  accordant  with  his  thought, 
And  none  shall  break  it  with  impunity. 
The  happiness  of  units  is  a  toy 

Weighed  'gainst  a  chiefs  command.     This  is  not  well. 
Better  relax  a  rule,  than  break  a  heart 
Where  no  crime  is."     And  then  he  paused,  as  one 
Who  offers  opportunity  of  speech. 
But  silence  reigned  ;  no  word  the  Otoe  chief 
Uttered ;  but  stood  defiant  in  his  post, 
As  one  who  will  not  yield.     Then  to  his  height 
The  mighty-limbed  Watonashie  drew  up 
His  length  enormous,  and  his  fearful  hand, 
Bony  and  vast,  with  threatening  gesture  raised, 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  37 

And  flashed  his  furious  eyes  like  shooting-stars, 
And  in  a  voice  of  winter  thunder  cried, 

!"  He  you  seek,  hard-hearted  warrior,  sits 
At  ease  within  my  tent.     Go,  take  him  now  : 
Go,  take  him  if  you  can  ;  but,  ere  you  go, 
Weigh  well  the  outcome.     You  shall  bite  the  dust 
Sooner  than  he,  unless  my  might  prove  less 
Than  yours  :  of  that  make  trial  when  you  will !  " 

To  him  Shosguscan,  with  a  baleful  face, 
But  calmly,  answered  :  "  Do  not  doubt  that  1 
Will  take  young  Sananona  from  your  tent. 
I  will  not  yield  the  right,  except  to  force 
I  am  unequal  to  oppose."     So,  then, 
He  turned,  and  with  him  went  the  Otoe  braves 
Back  o'er  the  hills,  and  sought  the  Otoe  tents. 
Then  did  Watonashie,  restraining  those 
Who  longed  to  slay  Shosguscan  where  he  stood, 
Or  chase  him  homeward  like  a  flying  stag. 
Gather  together  all  the  chiefs  and  braves 
2 


38  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

Among  the  Omahas,  and  council  hold 
And  war-like  preparation  make. 

So,  too, 

Shosguscan  called  his  Otoe  warriors  forth, 
And  bade  them  summon  up  their  utmost  might, 
And  fail  not  to  avenge  their  chief's  affront. 

But  when  next  morning,  timorous  and  cold, 
Flushed  o'er  the  east  like  one  who,  half-awake, 
Unfolds  a  drowsy  eye,  puts  forth  an  arm, 
And  takes  the  glimmering  prospect  of  his  room, 
The  Otoe  and  the  Omaha,  well-armed, 
Banded  for  fight  and  swept  across  the  hills — 
Seeking,  not  waiting,  for  the  foe.     And  as 
Along  that  green  and  dewy-gleaming  land 
The  level  sunrise  streamed  an  amber  flood, 
The  very  prairies  seemed  to. move  and  slip, 
As  in  an  earthquake.     Host  drew  near  to  host, 
Masses  opaque,  swart,  thundering  on  fierce  steeds, 
Or  running  with  fleet  foot,     'Gainst  the  low  sun 
Their  cold  spears  glittered  like  a  snow-glazed  plain, 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  39 

Brandished  with  threats  and  hate.     Then  with  a  crash 
As  when  in  August-storms,  among  the  bluffs 
Above  the  Platte,  or  on  its  heated  plain, 
Reverberating  thunders  peal  and  bound, 
The  fierce  tribes  met.  and  each  to  each  with  whoop 
Answered — whoop  dire  as  shriek  of  hopeless  fiends 
Weltering  upon  the  surges  of  remorse. 

Then  deeds  of  daring  might  were  done,  and  hosts 

Battled  for  sovereign  rites,  and  for  the  laws 

Of  hospitality.     The  vanquished  asked 

No  quarter  ;  none  the  victors  gave.     The  war 

Was  no  pretence,  no  hollow  sham  disguised, 

To  gain  a  footing  for  diplomacy ; 

But  every  blow  meant  death,  and  death  rejoiced 

And  spread  his  bloody  meshes  wide  for  all. 

But  Sananona,  who  from  far  had  watched 

The  progress  of  the  battle,  and  the  death 

Of  many  warriors  saw,  turned,  sick  at  heart 

And  moaning  in  his  grief,  and  sought  the  tent 

That  hid  his  bride,  Nacoumah.     Her  he  found 


40  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

Engaged  in  sweet  domestic  ways,  alone 

In  the  wide  tent.     Within  his  arm  her  waist 

He  drew,  and  fondly  kissed  her  beauteous  cheek, 

And  wept,  and  said,  "  Farewell,  dear  bride,  farewell. 

My  time  has  come  ;  the  tribes  too  long  have  fought ; 

Too  Ions  death  ravened  on  the  innocent — 

o 

And  I  sole  cause  of  war.     But  if  I  die 

No  need  of  battle  or  of  blood  remains. 

No  other  family  must  forever  mourn 

For  my  offence,  or  all  will  curse  my  name, 

And  in  the  coming  times  will  haply  say, 

'  He  loved  himself;  he  lived  and  saw  the  sun, 

But  had  no  will  to  spare  the  braves  who  died, 

No  pity  on  their  children  or  their  wives.'  " 

And  him  Nacoumah  answered  through  her  tears  : 

"  Dear,  noble  heart,  go,  battle  with  our  friends  ; 

Go  do  great  deeds,  and  win  a  name  for  me. 

Why  speak  of  death  ?     The  grave  is  dark  and  foul — 

Forgotten  soon,  and  no  man  loves  the  grave. 

Have  I  no  charms  ?  and  care  you  not  to  see 

Your  prattling  children  playing  at  the  door 

Of  the  dear  lodge  ?     O  speak  no  more  of  death." 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  41 

But  he  replied  :  "  I  am  not  left  to  choose 
Or  life  or  death,  the  arms  of  wife  and  babe, 
Or  the  fierce  worm.     Fate  has  made  choice  for  me. 
Through  all  last  night,  while  you  slept  at  my  side, 
A  shadow,  with  moon-eyes  and  chilly  touch 
Stood  over  me,  and  breathed,  in  hollow  voice, 
'  Come,  Sananona,  come  :  the  grave  is  made, 
The  worm  awaits  ! '     But  just  at  morning  light 
A  sun-bright  figure  with  a  happy  face 
Displaced  the  bodiless  spectre  of  the  night, 
And  told  me  that  to-day  my  life  shall  be 
Far,  far  away,  among  the  prairie-hills 
And  blooming  valleys  of  the  land  of  souls. 
I  go  to  meet  my  fate  ;  but  I  shall  look 
Athwart  the  gates  of  morning  year  by  year, 
And  peer  in  every  coming  woman's  face, 
Matron  or  maiden,  hoping  e'er  for  you. 
Farewell,  dear  bride,  farewell." 

So  in  the  long 

And  painful  rapture  of  a  last  embrace, 
They  clung  with  tears  and  bitter,  aching  hearts, 


42  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Till  Sananona,  summoning  his  strength, 

His  sweet  Nacoumah's  fond  arms  disengaged, 

Put  on  the  stolid  look  an  Indian  wears, 

And  turned  away  and  sought  the  bloody  field. 

Where  fiercest  strained  the  fight  he  came,  and  cried, 

"  Hold,  Otoes,  Oinahas,  ye  warriors  brave  ! 

No  further  need  is  there  of  blood  and  hate. 

I  come  to  end  this  cruel  war,  and  save 

Your  women's  eyes  from  tears,  your  babes  from  want. 

Live  you,  but  let  me  die — mine  the  war's  cause, 

Mine  be  its  latest  wo.     But  you  henceforth 

Be  friends  !  " 

Then  from  the  conflict  paused  the  hosts 
At  gaze,  while  Sananona,  well-beloved 
By  either  tribe,  fixed  in  the  yielding  soil 
The  polished  handle  of  his  keen-edged  spear, 
And  pulled  aside  his  robe,  and  bared  his  breast, 
•  And  fell  upon  the  spear-point.     Straight  it  drove 
To  his  brave  heart,  and  the  hot  blood  was  seen, 
And  he  fell  backwards,  like  a  bird  that  flies 
Against  the  wires  suspended  in  mid-air 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  43 

On  poles  of  inland  telegraphs,  and  died. 
But  a  wan  cloud,  that  in  the  midmost  heaven 
Had  gathered  unperceived  in  the  sun's  path, 
Sent  forth  a  frightful  wail  of  frightened  winds 
And  scattered  tearful  drops,  and,  from  its  edge 
Sulphureous,  whirled  a  luminous,  hissing  bolt, 
Along  whose  wake  the  thunder  cracked  and  roared 
Above  the  hosts.     Great  horror  fell  on  all. 
But  the  cloud  slipped  away  into  thin  air, 
The  sweet  wild  winds  sang  a  s\vcet  song  of  June, 
And  the  sun  shone. 

The.n  to  the  Omahas 

Shosguscan  said  :  "  Why  do  we  stand  at  war  1 
The  end  I  sought  is  reached  ;  due  penalty 
Exacted  from  the  insubordinate. 
Had  I  myself  for  Sananona's  fault 
Awarded  punishment,  his  life,  no  doubt, 
Would  be  untouched.     But  now  I  do  rejoice 
That  he,  by  his  own  act,  before  you  all 
His  blame  confesses  and  my  sentence  spares. 
In  after  years,  when  these  vast  hosts  are  gone, 


44  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

And  other  warriors  roam  these  flowery  plains, 

It  shall  be  told  by  many  an  evening  fire, 

For  youth's  instruction,  how  this  young  man  brought 

Two  peaceful  tribes  to  fearful  chance  of  war, 

And  compassed  his  own  death  by  headlong  lust 

That  mocked  at  duty.     Sananona's  name 

Shall  then  be  synonym  of  scorn  of  law, 

Of  disobedience.     So  others  all, 

By  his  sad  fate  and  this  brief  war  forewarned, 

Shall  settle  to  their  places  with  content, 

And  just  authority  no  more  be  spurned. 

Now  let  the  calumet  be  lit  and  passed, 

And  Omaha  and  Otoe  be  sure  friends, 

As  heretofore." 

But  stout  Watonashie, 
Turning  half-way  to  his  own  men,  replied : 
"  'Twixt  me  and  that  fierce  wolf  can  be  no  peace  ! 
What  was  this  Sananona's  fault  ?     His  fault  ? — 
He  wed  a  daughter  of  the  Omaha, 
Nacoumah,  whom  I,  childless,  love  as  well 
As  if  she  were  my  own.     For  this  alone — 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  45 

Because  he  followed  where  love's  instinct  led, 

And  prized  the  natural  hunger  of  the  heart 

As  something  better  than  a  beast's  desire, 

As  all  too  sacred  for  another's  will 

To  guide  or  thwart,  he  lies  here  dead  to-day. 

But  now  this  crafty  chief,  Shosguscan,  he 

Who  is  at  blame  for  all  this  bloody  work, 

Would  point  a  moral  with  the  young  man's  name — 

Victim  of  pitiless  vengeance — and  ourselves 

Having  dishonored  by  this  show  of  war, 

From  which  he  gains  his  end,  would  pause  and  smoke 

The  Peace-Pipe  in  a  handsome  covenant, 

And  crawl  away,  himself  secure  from  harm. 

This  must  not  be  !     Good  friends,  it  shall  not  be  ! 

My  arm  aches  for  reprisal,  and  my  will 

Exacts  from  battle  yon  disturber's  blood. 

No  talk  of  peace  be  here  !  " 

Then  flew  the  spears  ;     . 
The  barbed  sharp  arrows  hissed  along  the  air, 
And  the  hot  hosts  strained  to  death's  furious  work. 
As  when  along  the  bottoms  by  the  streams 


46  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

In  Autumn,  when  the  dense  tall  grass  is  dry, 

Two  surging  fires,  by  opposite  currents  driven, 

Eat  all  before  them  over  untold  miles, 

And  leave  behind  no  thick  tall  spire  of  grass, 

Or  tough  brown  weed,  but  charred  black  clumps  of  roots, 

Unsightly,  on  the  desolated  fields, 

So  all  day  long,  through  feverish  hours  of  noon, 

Till  the  great  sun  lay  low  above  the  hills, 

The  adverse  hosts  each  through  the  other  whirled, 

And  death  made  brutal  havoc,  and  the  field 

Was  black  and  bloody  with  the  fallen  dead. 

But  as  the  sun,  descending,  touched  the  hills, 

And  the  last  breath  of  winds  that  die  away 

With  sunset  sighed  across  the  world,  two  chiefs — 

One  Omaha,  one  Otoe,  now  the  sole 

Survivors  of  that  brave,  infuriate  day — 

Bleeding  with  many  wounds,  but  black  with  hate, 

Drew  to  each  other  o'er  the  slippery  field. 

Then  spoke  Watonashie  :  "Shosguscan,  fiend, 

I  joy  to  meet  thee  thus  ;  come,  find  thy  death  ; 

And  by  the  evening  fire  in  afcer  times 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  47 

It  shall  be  told  their  children  by  the  old 
How  Sananona  died  for  hapless  love, 
Forbidden  by  his  chief;  and  also  how 
The  fierce  Shosgusean,  who  held  hearts  as  cheap, 
And  felt  no  sympathy  with  others'  pain, 
Destroyed  two  tribes  entire,  and  died  himself 
And  left  his  carcass  to  the  croaking  crows." 

To  him  Shosguscan,  weary  with  his  wounds, 
And  sick  at  heart  for  all  his  warriors  slain, 
Yet  full  of  wrath,  u  I  know  that  death  is  near, 
Nor  would  I  live,  survivor  sole  and  sad 
Of  all  I  mourn.     For  them  alone  I  lived  ; 
With  them  'tis  sweet  to  die.     I  stood  to-day 
A  champion  of  authority  and  law, 
But  thou  of  wilfulness  and  anarchy. 
And  both  have  lost.     But  I  would  fight  again 
This  dreadful  fray,  and  sacrifice,  besides, 
The  tender  mother  and  her  prattling  child, 
Unconscious  of  my  thought,  rather  than  yield 
This  cause.     I  could  not  brook  that  each  should  be 


48  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

An  individual  law,  for  turbulence 

And  personal  assertion,  more  than  death, 

I  dread.     But  thou,  Watonashie,  stand  forth  ! 

The  hour  demands  far  else  than  braggart  words, 

For  I  am  proved  in  battle,  and  have  seen 

Thy  whole  tribe  fall.     Thou,  too,  shalt  die  ;  the  sun 

Shall  never  look  upon  thy  face  again 

Living.     Now  share  thy  tribesmen's  fate  !  " 

As  when 

Upon  the  broad,  smooth  current  of  a  stream, 
Two  iron  rams,  with  long,  steel-pointed  beaks, 
Lunge  at  each  other's  sides,  or  sterns,  or  keels 
Below  the  water-line,  seeking  some  place 
Vulnerable  to  open  to  the  flood, 
Or  hurl  against  the  iron-plated  mail 
Of  their  thick  sides  enormous  weight  of  shot, 
Or  ponderous  shell,  screaming  and  glad  for  death, 
Till  both,  crushed  in  their  seams  by  monstrous  blows, 
Settle  and  sink  sudden  into  the  depths, 
And  death  o'ertakes  the  crews,  and  all  is  still, 
The  fierce  chiefs  plied  each  other  with  tieir  spears, 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  49 

And,  coming  closer,  drew  their  fearful  knives 
And  grappled  in  a  struggle  fierce  but  short, 
And  fell,  close-locked,  in  death. 

By  this  the  rim 

Of  western  hills,  in  the  cold,  wasting  light, 
Grew  indiscriminate  ;  but  up  the  east 
Hung,  in  gray  peaceful  depths,  the  full-orbed  moon. 
Utterly  silent  was  the  field  of  death. 
So  then  the  women,  who  from  far  had  marked 
The  waning  battle  as  their  heroes  fell, 
And  heard  the  shouts  of  triumph  and  the  moans 
Of  men  death-stricken  fainter  grow  and  cease, 
Warned  by  the  ominous  stillness  of  the  eve, 
Stole,  timid,  with  all  orphaned  youths  and  maids 
And  infants  hushed,  as  by  a  ghostly  fear, 
Across  that  dreadful  field  of  moon-lit  death, 
Searching  for  husbands,  brothers,  sons. 
As  when  a  mother  doe,  with  spotted  fawn, 
Hides  by  a  runnel  in  some  cool,  blue  glen, 
While  the  brave  stag  climbs  out  on  some  near  hill, 
Observant  of  the  huntsman  and  the  hounds, 


50  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

But,  venturing  too  far,  a  stealthy  shot 

Reaches  his  vitals,  and  he  turns  and  flies, 

Bleeding,  and  falls  before  his  mate,  and  dies, 

But  she  and  the  weak  fawn  smell  o'er  his  wounds, 

And  lick  his  face,  and  moan,  and  from  their  eyes, 

Lustrous  and  large,  fall  piteous  tears,  so  then, 

When  all  their  slain  had  found  and  turned  them  o'er, 

And  knew  the  light  might  never  break  again 

In  kindling  glances  from  death-faded  eyes, 

They  sat  them  down  through  lingering,  painful  hours 

Of  the  dim  night,  and,  without  utterance,  wept. 

But  when  the  moon,  down  her  accustomed  path 
Descending,  touched  the  west,  lie  who  o'errules 
Particular  troubles  to  the  general  good, 
And  pities  all,  and  knows  the  loyal  worth 
Of  true  wives'  tears,  and  tears  of  children — such 
As  weep  a  father  slain — He,  pitying,  sent 
A  sympathetic  shudder  through  the  earth, 
And  the  dead  warriors  sank  to  graves  of  calm. 
But  all  the  tears  of  children  and  of  wives, 
In  a  green  hollow  of  the  lonely  hills 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  51 

He  gathered  in  a  fountain,  that  the  sun 

Dries  not  in  summer  heats,  but  crystal  pure 

O'erbrims  and  murmurs  through  the  changing  year. 

Forever  on  it  flows,  that  gentle  stream, 

Fountained  by  tears,  and  glides  among  the  hills — 

Ne-hawka — in  a  valley  of  its  own, 

And  passes  happy  homes,  and  smiling  farms, 

And  rolling  meadows  spotted  o'er  with  flocks 

That  drink  its  sweet,  cool  waters ;  and  so  on 

Past  groves  of  leafy  hickory,  and  beneath 

Low  painted  bridges,  rumbling  to  a  team, 

It  moves  a  broadening  current,  swelled  by  rains 

Or  the  chill  ooze  of  Spring-dissolving  snows, 

And  mirrors  back  the  splendors  of  the  sun, 

And  the  cold  moon,  and  the  wide  stream  of  stars, 

Until,  at  length,  it  lingers  at  the  marge 

Of  the  untamable  Missouri  flood, 

As  loath  to  mingle  its  love-hallowed  tears 

With  that  fierce,  sandy  rage ;  then  looks  its  last 

On  the  sweet  heavens  by  passing  day  or  night, 

And  sinks  beneath  the  yeasty,  boiling  waves, 

Whose  like  for  might  and  fury  earth  has  not. 


THE  RAW  HIDE 


/ 


THE    RAW    HIDE. 

A  certain  man,  of  a  small  company  moving  up  the  great  plain  of 
the  Platte,  in  a  spirit  of  bravado,  said  he  would  shoot  the  first  Indian 
he  met ;  which  he  did,  having  shortly  afterward  found  a  Pawnee  woman 
a  little  separated  from  her  tribe.  But  a  band  of  warriors,  pursuing, 
demanded  from  his  companions  the  surrender  of  that  man  ;  which  being 
refused,  the  Pawnees  made  ready  to  slay  the  whole  company  of  whites. 
Whereupon  the  offender  being  given  into  their  hands,  they  flayed  him 
alive.  From  this  circumstance  the  little  stream,  on  whose  banks  it 
occurred,  takes  the  name  of  the  Raw  Hide. 


I. 

I  WILL  go  to  the  meadows  ere  sunset, 

And  gather  a  wreath  for  my  head  ; 

I  will  pluck  purple  flox  and  white  grass-flowers, 

And  roses  both  yellow  and  red, 

And  will  wreathe  me  a  garland  outvying 

The  splendor  of  jewels  and  pearls, 

That  gleam  on  the  sumptuous  foreheads 

And  bosoms  of  pale-faced  girls. 

And  Korux  will  come  in  the  evening, 
And  lead  me  forth  under  the  moon  ; 
Will  see  me  bedecked  for  his  coming, 
And,  glad  for  my  simple  boon, 
Will  clasp  me,  and  kiss  me,  and  praise  me, 
In  honest  true-lover's  way  ; 
Will  tear  himself  from  me  sadly, 
And — hurry  the  wedding-day. 


56  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

O  sun,  pass  on  to  thy  setting  : 
Be  swift  to  thy  golden  rest : 
Far  dearer  the  tender  moonlight. 
And  the  star-beams,  that  invest 
With  delicate  dreamy  glory, 
And  soft,  enraptured  grace, 
The  forms  of  maid  and  lover, 
And  the  passion  of  each  face. 

O  sun,  pass  on  to  thy  setting, 
And  bring  my  Korux  here ; 
And  hasten,  O  silver  moonrise, 
And  let  thy  light  be  clear. 
Shine,  shine  upon  my  garland, 
And  flash  against  my  eyes, 
That  Korux  may  see  the  sweetness 
Of  the  heart  that  in  me  lies. 

Dear,  blissful  world  of  blessing, 
To  me  there  is  one  thing  plain : 
The  weight  of  my  life's  long  pleasure 
O'erpasses  possible  pain. 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  57 

I  cannot  believe  in  trouble. 
It  lasts  but  a  little  hour  ; 
And  its  use  is  only  to  heighten 
Our  joy  to  its  utmost  power. 

A  \vife  with  a  brave  like  Korux 
To  guard  her  from  want  and  blame 
With  as  gentle  a  heart  as  his  is — 
That  glows  with  so  steady  a  flame, 
Will  never  go  sighing,  sighing, 
For  a  better  world  than  this, 
But  will  have  whatever  is  needful, 
To  give  her  contentment  and  bliss. 

And  I  shall  love  him  completely — 

So  worthy  is  he  of  love ; 

His  wishes  shall  be  my  study 

All  other  things  above  ; 

For  I  deem  'twas  a  passing  marvel 

That  I — such  a  foolish  child — 

Should  have  moved  the  love  of  Korux, 

On  whom  all  the  maidens  smiled. 


58  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

I  wonder  he  passed  by  Bucks-kau-rc,    :  I 
So  slender,  and  graceful,  and  tall ; 
Or  mild-eyed,  affectionate  Kitick, 
The  daintiest  damsel  of  all. 
What  was  there  in  me  to  allure  him, 
And  win  him  past  maidens  like  these  ? 
'Tis  hard  to  determine.     I'm  thinking 
That  Korux  was  easy  to  please. 

For  I  am  too  pale  for  a  beauty — 

Too  slender,  I  fear,  in  the  face ; 

And  sometimes  I  seem,  in  my  movements, 

To  lack  the  true  manner  of  grace. 

But  yet,  I've  a  heart  for  my  Korux, 

Than  which  not  a  heart  is  so  true ; 

And  the  hope  and  the  trust  that  he  treasures 

With  me,  he  never  shall  rue. 

When  he  goes  out  the  foremost  to  battle. 
Rejoicing  in  manhood  and  might, 
I  will  deck  him  with  plumes  and  colors, 
And  make  his  heart  happy  and  light. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  59 

And  when  he  comes  back  victorious, 
Or  wounded  in  sore  defeat, 
I  will  exult  in  my  warrior, 
And  make  his  welcoming  sweet. 

True  wife  shall  he  ever  find  me, 
And  ever  at  his  side  : 
Wherever  he  leads  I  will  follow, 
Be  it  over  the  world  so  wide. 
Closer  and  closer  forever 
Shall  my  life  with  his  intertwine, 
As,  firm  on  the  oak  and  its  branches, 
Fastens  the  parasite  vine. 

And  now  I  will  go  ere  the  sunset. 
And  gather  a  garland  of  flowers  ; 
I  will  wander  along  by  the  streamlet, 
Where  the  water-fowl  have  their  bowers 
Under  reeds  and  willows  and  grasses, 
And  where  the  wild  roses  grow  ; 
And  I'll  gather  and  weave  in  my  garland 
All  the  beautiful  flowers  I  know. 


60  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

And  hasten,  O  happy  evening, 
And  bring  the  silent  moon  ! 
Come,  come,  O  silvery  moonrise, 
And  Korux  will  come  soon. 
Shine,  shine  upon  my  garland  ; 
Flow  round  me,  mellow  beams, 
Till  I  surpass  the  ideal 
Of  my  lover's  bright  clay-dreams. 

II. 

It  was  a  Pawnee  maiden, 

And  down  a  runnel's  bank  she  went, 

Low-murmuring,  in  her  happy  heart, 

Her  artless,  sweet  content. 
The  dwellings  of  her  tribe  were  near 

The  prairies,  bright  and  lone  ; 
Mild  on  her  face  the  low  sun  beamed, 

And  fear,  it  was  unknown. 
The  loveliest  maiden  she  of  all, 
Where  many  a  dark-eyed  maid  was  fair  ; 
And  on  her  brow  was  innocence, 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  61 

And  in  her  heart  no  snare. 
Her  thoughts  were  all  of  prosperous  love, 

For  such  alone  she  knew, 
And  quiet  pictures  of  long  bliss 

Her  gentle  fancy  drew. 
The  daintiest  blooms  she  sought  and  culled, 
And  in  a  garland  deftly  bound ; 
And  many  a  rose  and  pale  grass-flower 
Fastened  her  lovely  zone  around  ; 
Till,  as  the  sun  drooped  on  the  hills, 
And  slant  his  rays  bedimmed  the  land, 
The  maiden  viewed  her  work  with  joy, 
And  stayed  her  cunning  hand. 
But,  homeward  ere  her  steps  she  turned 
And  sought  the  village,  that  from  far 
In  the  low,  hazy  sunset  burned 

Like  some  red  evening  star, 
She  paused  a  moment  by  the  rill, 
To  note  a  slow  and  rumbling  train 
Of  sutler  carles  and  muleteers 

Come  winding  o'er  the  plain. 
3 


62  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

And  much  she  wondered  in  her  mind 
That  pale-faced  men  so  toiled  for  gold, 
And  braved  the  summer's  fiery  heats, 

The  winter's  bitterest  cold, 
And  left  behind  them  mournful  homes, 
And  tried  the  hate  of  hostile  lands, 
When  fish  and  game  were  plentiful, 
And  corn  grew  with  small  use  of  hands. 
"  Not  thus  will  Korux  go  from  me," 

The  simple  maiden  thought ; 
"  Content  with  what  supplies  our  needs, 
What  else  in  reason  shall  be  sought  ?  " 

III. 

And  now,  the  train,  approaching, 
Wound  up  the  grass-hedged  pleasant  road, 
With  crack  of  whip,  and  many  an  oath 
Upon  the  brutes  bestowed. 
Full  of  rough  daring  were  the  men 
Who  ventured  through  the  wilderness  ; 
For  danger  they  had  little  care  ; 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  (33 

For  forms  of  right  some  cared  still  less. 

Gain  was  the  principle  of  most ; 

Love  of  adventure  moved  them  all ; 

And  fearful  must  have  been  that  thing 

Could  those  stout  hearts  appal. 
They  gathered  there  from  many  lands, 
And  brought  the  passion  of  all  climes, 
And  filled  the  Indian's  heart  with  hate, 
And  made  his  wjves  corrupt  betimes, 
And  choked  up  avenues  of  good, 
Accessible  in  simple  souls, 
To  whom  the  action,  not  the  creed, 
Proclaims  the  element  that  controls. 

Deeds  infamous  and  terrible, 

Through  long,  long  years  were  done. 

Even  with  the  little  company 
The  maiden  viewed,  was  one 

Who  o'er  his  cups  in  wayside  ranch 
Had  laid  a  braggart  bet, 

With  boon  companions,  he  would  slay 


64  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

The  Indian  first  they  met. 
And  now  as  in  the  lingering  light 

The  maiden  fixed  his  eye, 
Far  from  the  dwellings  of  her  tribe, 
And  decked  with  prairie  finery, 
He  laughed  a  devilish  laugh  and  low, 
And  thought  how  opportune  it  proved, 
That  one  lone,  helpless  maid  was  thus 
Par  from  all  friendly  ey^s  removed. 
The  bet  was  won.    The  streamlet's  bank 
The  heavy  wagons  drew  anear, 
And  all  beheld  the  young  girl  stand 
Quietly  looking,  without  fear ; 
And  heard  a  shot,  and  saw  her  fall, 
Nor  paused  upon  their  westward  way, 
But  journeyed  on  for  many  an  hour 
By  moonlight  calm  and  gray. 

IV. 

Dear  are  pure  dreams  of  love  to  God, 
And  dear  to  Him  all  gentle  souls. 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  65 

The  lives  of  virgin  maids  He  shapes, 
And  each  event  therein  controls, ' 
Through  trying  forms  of  changing  fate, 
Through  pleasure  and  through  pain  ; 
Gives  length  of  days,  or  useful  death, 
As  love  and  pity  should  ordain. 
A  sparrow  falls:  He,  careful,  sees; 
A  maiden  dies,  and  knows  not  why  ; 
And  reckless  time  goes  whirling  on, 
And  sport  and  cruelty  go  by 
With  wanton  jest  and  stealthy  tread, 
As  if  a  crime  might  be  secure. 
But  He,  observant,  looks  from  heaven 

And  sends  a  vengeance  sure. 
A  child  that,  angling  in  the  rill. 

Concealed  'mid  reeds  and  grass, 
Had  seen  the  victim  fall,  and  seen 

The  train  unheeding  pass, 
Ran  to  the  village  with  all  speed, 

And  told  the  woful  tale  ; 
And  warriors  banded  in  hot  haste, 


66  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

And  women  trembled  and  turned  pale. 
Erelong,  in  silence,  up  the  plain 
A  host  pursuing  passed, 
Nor  gale-driv'n  shadows  'neath  the  moon 
Fly  stealthier,  or  more  fast. 
And  ere  the  sun  above  the  hills 
Had  flung  his  golden  banner  out, 
The  sutler  company  were  waked 
From  stolid  slumber  by  the  shout 
Of  frightened  sentries,  who  were  'ware 
That  dense,  dark  masses  drew  anear 
From  every  side,  whose  coming  thus 

There  was  good  room  to  fear. 
Up  from  their  blankets  sprang  the  carles ; 
The  tethered  mules,  led  in,  were  tied 
Within  the  circle  of  the  wains 

That  now  defence  supplied. 
Each  man  behind  his  level  gun 
Was  perched  among  his  bales,  or  lay 
Full-length,  deep-hidden  in  the  grass, 

And  ready  for  the  fray. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  67 

It  was  a  game  where  one  was  matched 

'Gainst  twenty  of  the  fearful  foe, 

And  all  the  carles  might  well  have  been 

Extinguished  at  a  Llow  ; 
But  savage  folk,  more  generous  far 
Than  they  who  wrong  them  day  by  day, 
Who  drive  them  from  their  homes,  and  steal, 

In  trade,  their  goods  away, 
Have  ever  shown  a  keener  sense 
Of  simple  justice  and  good  will 
Than  well-trained  men  whose  minds  and  hearts 

Historic  ages  fill. 
The  Pawnee  host  round  the  correll 

Formed  an  unbroken  line  ; 
Then,  quietly,  all  sat  them  down 

Till  the  clear  sun  should  shine, 
Lest,  in  the  darkness,  there  should  be 
Unwished-for  deeds  of  horror  done, 
And  some  with  hands  uncrimsoned  meet 
The  punishment  of  the  guilty  one. 
At  length  the  hour  befit  the  deed. 


68  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

Then  three  tall  chiefs  approached 
The  trembling  company  at  bay, 

And  thus  their  errand  broached  : 
"  O  men  that  journey  through  our  land. 

And  trespass  on  our  right, 
We  did  not  stop  you  as  you  passed 

Our  village  but  last  night. 
We  saw  your  mules  and  merchandise  ; 

We  knew  you  were  our  foe ; 
But  you  had  wives  and  babes  behind, 

And  so  we  let  you  go. 
But  you,  who  boast  of  better  ways, 

You  had  no  heed  of  us ; 
You  slew  a  maiden  of  our  tribe, 

And  we  forbearing  thus. 
You  shot  her  as  she  were  a  beast, 
Nor  stopped  a  moment  on  your  way 
To  mitigate  her  dying  pains, 
And  smooth  the  turf  whereon  she  lay. 
So,  should  we  slay  you  all  this  morn, 
We  think  we  should  not  do  a  wrong  : 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

But  better  it  perchance  may  be 

To  suffer  much  and  long, 
Ere  pushed  to  furious  revenge. 

But  this  we  do  demand  : 
Give  up  to  us  the  murderer 

With  blood  upon  his  hand, 
To  deal  with  as  seems  right  to  us  ! 
Then  go  in  honest  peace  your  way, 
And,  as  you  value  our  good  will, 
Keep  the  remembrance  of  this  day." 

V. 

In  idle  parley  passed  an  hour — 
An  hour  it  was  of  reasoning, 
And  vicious  threats  on  either  side — 
And  much  the  sutlers  strove  to  bring 
Their  comrade  through  his  perilous  strait. 
But  fear  the  Indian  did  not  know  : 
Vain  the  appeal  to  future  strife 
And  deep  revenge  ;  and  vain  the  thought 
To  pay  with  gold  a  price  for  life. 
3* 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

At  length  the  warrior  bent  his  bow, 
Or  raised  his  flint-lock  to  his  eye, 
Impatient  with  the  stubborn  carles, 
And  thinking  best  that  all  should  die 
Where  justice  had  no  advocate. 
And  then  the  men  were  fain  to  yield, 
And  gave  the  murderer  to  his  fate, 
And  so  the  breach  was  healed. 

But  him — the  unhappy  man  of  blood- 
The  avengers  hurried  to  that  spot 
Where,  in  last  sunset's  Weaning  light, 
He  had  the  maiden  shot. 
And  there,  with  cruel  taunt  and  gibe, 

They  flayed  him  that  he  died, 
And  left  his  body  to  the  birds, 

Close  by  the  runnel  side  ; 
But  stuffed  his  skin,  and  set  it  up 

Before  all  evil  men, 
To  warn  them,  lest  so  foul  a  thing 

Should  e'er  be  done  again. 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

And  long  that  pallid  monument 

Faced  sun  and  rain,  and  winds  that  blew  ; 

And  whether  it  crumbled  into  dust, 

Or  what  its  fate,  I  never  knew. 

But  the  dull  stream  that  winds  along, 

Low  under  summer  suns,  or  sweeps 

Almost  a  queenly  river  when 

Snows  melt,  or  heaven  unlocks  the  keeps 

Wherein  are  treasured  all  the  rain, 

Takes  name  from  what  its  banks  beside 

Long  years  ago  was  foully  done, 

And  all  men  call  it  the  Raw  Hide 

VI. 

The  summer  is  here,  and  the  sunshine  ; 
The  prairie  is  sprinkled  with  flowers ; 
The  winds  through  the  long  grasses  murmur, 
The  clouds  ripple  down  in  bright  showers  ; 
And  the  birds  and  the  bees  are  a-singing ; 
The  youth  fly  their  steeds  o'er  the  plains  ; 
And  lovers  for  shy  nooks  are  hunting, 
And  everywhere  happiness  reigns. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Ah,  no  !  I  am  sick  for  the  maiden 
That  wandered  here  late  by  my  side  : 
I  see  not  the  birds  and  the  sunshine, 
I  heed  not  the  winds  as  they  glide. 
I  think  of  the  past  and  the  future, 
And  my  eyes  are  beclouded  with  tears, 
The  past  is  a  dream  that  is  vanished ; 
The  future— what  has  it  that  cheers  ? 

Here,  under  this  mound,  she  is  lying, 
To  moulder  in  silence  alone  ; 
She  knows  not  I'm  standing  above  her 
I  call,  but  she  heeds  not  the  tone. 
Oh,  lately  she  came,  if  I  named  her ; 
On  all  that  I  uttered,  she  hung ; 
And,  close  as  the  vine  to  the  oak-tree, 
Her  spirit  to  mine  ever  clung. 

She  lies  in  a  prison  of  sorrow  ; 
The  light  never  breaks  on  her  eyes  ; 
Her  hands  are  clasped  over  a  bosom 
No  more  to  be  rounded  by  sighs. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  73 

Iii  darkness,  of  friendship  forgotten, 
Unheeding,  she  slumbers  alway. 
Ah,  soon  the  form  that  was  fairest 
Must  be  as  the  formless  clay. 

The  ages  shall  linger  above  her 

And  still  shine  the  pitiless  sun  ; 

The  moon  shall  be  tender  and  dreamy, 

The  feet  of  the  light  winds  shall  run, 

And  lovers  and  maids  shall  be  gathered 

In  happy  and  endless  embrace ; 

But  for  her,  in  the  ranks  of  the  happy, 

Shall  never  be  any  more  place. 

And  yet,  I  am  told  that  a  spirit 
Was  dwelling  within  her  pure  frame, 
That  has  gone  to  a  beautiful  region, 
In  a  country  that  no  man  can  name. 
A  spirit  thin,  pallid,  but  lovely,    • 
With  eyes  that  are  mistless  and  bright, 
And  clad  in  a  robe  than  the  grass-flowers 
More  perfectly  spotless  and  white. 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

If  so,  sweet  spirit,  await  me  ! 
One  day  I  shall  come  to  thy  place ; 
I  shall  seek  thee  all  over  that  country," 
And  yearn  for  thy  loving  embrace. 
Forget  me  not,  spirit  most  perfect ! 
Let  Korux  remain  in  thy  heart : 
Again  we  will  wander  together, 
Nor  one  from  the  other  depart. 

Where  the  light  never  dies  in  the  valleys, 

Where  the  winds  never  angrily  blow, 

Far  away  from  the  dread  of  the  white  man. 

What  happiness  may  we  know  ! 

And  the  vows  now  so  painfully  broken, 

Forever  and  aye  we'll  repair. 

Oh,  spirit  beloved,  be  ready  ! 

Oh,  wait  for  and  welcome  me  there  ! 


THE  PRAISE  OF  NEW  LANDS 


I. 

GOD  bless  our  sturdy  native  land — 
Its  prairies  broad,  its  mountains  bare, 

Its  rough,  cold  lakes,  its  rivers  grand, 
Its  pure,  invigorating  air. 
And  bless  its  blue,  enfolding  seas, 
Its  forests,  springs,  and  bloomy  leas, 
And  all  the  powers  and  influences 
That  make  this  land  the  land  it  is. 
For  here  are  nurtured,  here  alone, 
The  tensest  muscle,  firmest  bone  ; 
The  keenest  eye,  the  sternest  will, 
And  largest  power  for  good  or  ill. 

II. 

AY  here  huddled  Europe  breeds  her  swarms, 
The  Few  possess  the  Many's  rights. 


78  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

The  Few  have  homes,  and  cheer,  and  forms 

Of  health,  and  eyes  that  see  delights. 
The  Many  toil  from  day  to  day, 
And  earn  such  pittance  as  they  may  ; 
But  scantily  fed  and  clad,  and  chilled 
By  hopes  forever  unfulfilled, 
From  infancy  to  manhood's  prime, 
And  down  the  mellowing,  ripening  time 
Of  hallowed  age,  they  dwell  with  pain, 
Nor  manhood's  guerdon  ever  gain. 
For,  let  them  struggle  as  they  may 
To  upward  win  an  equal  way, 
They  learn,  at  last,  'tis  vain  to  try ; 
That  peasants  "born  must  peasants  die. 

III. 
I  hold  'twere  well  to  teach  our  heirs, 

If  they  would  shun  the  peasant's  doom, 
Would  shun  his  ignorance  and  cares, 

To  live  in  States  where  men  have  room. 
Where  entail  may  not  bind  the  land, 
Nor  privilege  defiant  stand  ; 


NEBRASKA  LEGEXDS.  79 

But  where  a  man  of  heart  and  mind 
At  once  expansive  place  may  find. 
Teach  them  that  cities  are  the  graves 
That  bury  anxious,  toil-worn  slaves  ; 
That  while  the  Few  there  ride  at  will, 
And  of  all  pleasure  have  their  fill, 
The  Thousands,  hither,  thither  thrown, 
Live  not  in  houses  of  their  own — 
Scarce  know  the  wind-tone  of  a  tree, 
The  song-bird's  wondrous  minstrelsy, 
The  murmur  of  a  pebbly  rill, 
And  all  the  sights  and  sounds  that  fill 
The  country  with  such  peace  and  rest. 
Then  to  the  north,  or  south,  or  west ! 
Then  to  new  lands,  unless,  born  great, 
One  heirs  a  competent  estate  ! 
And  be  new  lands  or  warm  or  cold, 
Or  forest  dense,  or  open  wold, 
Or  inland  far,  or  by  the  sea, 
Thither  let  poor-folk  straightway  flee, 
And  know  that  who  to  new  lands  come, 
May  own  themselves  and  own  their  home. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

IV. 

But  ah,  to  leave  forefathers'  graves, 

And  sights  well-loved  from  infancy  : 
Were  it  not  better  still  be  slaves 

Than  all  we  love  no  more  to  see  ? 
Better  to  linger  by  the  looms, 
Better  to  pace  dark,  rented  rooms  ; 
Better  to  breathe  the  putrid  air 
Of  dusty,  narrow  streets  and  bare  ; 
Better  to  meet  each  coming  year 
With  lessening  hope  and  deepening  fear, 
That  still  in  sunshine  and  in  shower 
Fond  eyes  may  see  the  old  church-tower, 
Fond  ears  still  hear  the  sweet  church-bell, 
Whose  summons  blest  we  love  so  well — 
Still  round  us  move  the  patient  grace 
Of  many  a  loved  familiar  face, 
And  that,  by  graves  most  dear,  at  last 
We  may  lie  down  when  life  is  past  ? 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  81 

V. 

0  weak  one,  filled  with  discontent 
Of  present  things,  yet  fearing  change, 
Let  life  have  purpose  ere  'tis  spent — 

Give  thought  and  action  broader  range  ! 
The  wilderness  is  sweet  as  wide, 
And  fair  the  forms  on  every  side 
Of  hill  and  valley,  mead  and  wood — 

1  would  that  old  lands  were  as  good  ! 
In  happy  murmurs  glide  the  rills, 
And  golden  splendor  falls  and  fills 
The  heaven  above  the  fragrant  glens  ; 
Nor  wild  beast  there,  nor  snaky  fens. 
Go,  deem  what  prospect  most  invites : 
There  rear  thy  home,  and  bring  the  rites 
Of  prayer  and  worship  :  fill  a  space 
With  lettered  and  with  mannered  grace, 
Till  church-bells  sound  from  vale  to  vale, 
And  gardens  on  the  air  exhale 

The  orient  perfume  of  the  rose. 
Life  shall  have  purpose  as  it  goes, 


82  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

And  good  be  done,  and  strength  increase, 
And  old  age  win  an  honored  peace. 

VI. 

For  many  a  year,  across  these  plains, 
I've  marked  the  stalwart  immigrant 
Guiding  his  scantly-laden  wains 

To  some  fair  nook,  anew  to  plant 
The  fortunes  of  his  family  tree. 
And  when,  erelong,  he  there  might  be, 
The  spacious  homestead  rose  serene, 
Embowered  in  cool,  inviting  green  ; 
The  lark  sang  sweetly  at  his  door  ; 
His  barns  were  filled  with  ample  store ; 
His  fields  all  spotted  o'er  with  kine 
Indolent  in  the  broad  sunshine ; 
While  on  the  road  his  carriage  shone, 
And  far  and  wide  his  name  was  known 
As  one  to  whom  all  men  might  flee 
Tor  certain  hospitality : 
The  stranger's  .counsel,  orphan's  friend, 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  83 

Ready  to  harbor,  help,  or  lend, 
Ready  in  church  and  neighborhood, 
To  do  the  righteous  thing  he  could. 
And,  year  by  year,  more  perfect  grace 
Was  written  in  his  manly  face, 
Till  every  look  and  action  went 
To  speak  his  measureless  content. 

VII. 

Men  grow  by  independent  thought — 

Self-centred  action  unconstrained. 
Far  greater  he  whose  lines  are  wrought 

By  purpose  in  himself  contained, 
Than  he  who  by  another's  will 
Some  petty  place  must  daily  fill — 
Some  tiresome,  endless,  dull  routine, 
That  makes  him  but  a  mere  machine. 
Give  me  a  hut  with  scanty  cheer, 
Far  on  the  blooming  wild  frontier — 
A  yoke  of  cattle,  and  a  cow, 
And  acres  of  my  own  to  plow — 


84  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

A  dog,  a  gun,  the  sweet  blue  skies, 
And  Nature's  charms  and  mysteries  ; — 
So  I  may  feel  that  I  am  free, 
And  master  of  my  fortunes  be  ; — 
So  1  may  ride,  or  sit,  or  play, 
Or  read  my  book  each  stormy  day  ; — 
So  I  may  see  my  comforts  grow, 
With  immigration's  onward  flow  ; — 
See  values  rise,  and  friendship  grace 
Each  neighbor's  honest,  manly  face, — 
And  I  shall  feel  myself  a  king, 
Compared  with  them  who  daily  wring 
Precarious  substance  from  small  wage, 
Nor  hoard  a  little  for  old  age. 

VIII. 
Thank  God,  new  lands  are  vast  as  fair  : 

Earth  for  her  millions  still  has  room — 
Has  wealth  of  plains,  and  mountain-air, 

And  breezy  coasts,  and  forests'  gloom, 
Where  all  conditions  may  find  place. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  35 

On  some  fair  future  day  of  grace, 
Along  the  regions  now  but  waste, 
Civilizations  shall  be  traced 
As  fair  as  any  that  may  be. 
Then,  from  his  grave,  might  one  but  see 
His  sons  and  daughters  firmly  set, 
Where  wealth  and  honor  purely  met — 
Might  see  his  race  adorn  their  name, 
And  bless  the  ancestor  that  came 
Into  the  wilds,  with  sturdy  heart 
To  give  his  house  that  prosperous  start, 
Some  joy  might  stir  his  palsied  breast, 
Some  sweet  contentment  fill  his  rest.  "*   ' 

IX. 

But,  ah  !  we  cannot  raise  a  theme, 

Or  sing  a  song,  or  chant  a  stave/ 
Or  yield  awhile  to  some  bright  dream, 

But  it  must  end  low  in  the  grave. 
We  plant ;  our  children  take  and  reap, 
But  quickly  they  are  laid  asleep. 
4 


86  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

The  winds  and  waters  murmur  on, 

The  sun  forgets  the  nations  gone, 

And  to  and  fro  pass  heedless  feet. 

Oh  !  much  is  wanting  to  complete 

The  barest  possibilities 

Would  make  this  life  a  thing  of  bliss. 

No  region  may  be  found  on  earth 

To  wholly  fit  the  immortal  worth 

Of  God-given  souls  whose  end  is  God. 

There  is  no  place  from  Him  abroad — 

No  country  where  He  veils  His  eyes, 

And  talks  with  thunder  from  the  skies, 

And  sends  the  slow  approach  of  death — 

Where  men  may  draw  all-happy  breath. 

For  something  still  all  true  souls  pant — 

Some  unrelievable  want, 

That  Heaven  alone  can  satisfy. 

Heaven  is  the  country  to  draw  nigh — 

The  home  of  the  aspiring  soul : 

There  men  are  sound,  and  true,  and  whole, 

And  lands  are  fair,  and  skies  are  pure, 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  87 

And  homes  and  friendships  that  endure. 
Towards  heaven  we  tend.     God  give  us  grace 
To  see,  without  great  fear,  His  face ; 
And  give  us  room  where  all  is  new 
To  us  poor  earth-worms,  blind  of  view, 
And  foolish  in  our  weak  designs. 
And,  like  the  sun  that  months-long  shines 
Upon  the  erewhile  darkened  pole, 
Backward  death's  darkness  may  He  roll, 
And  set  us  where  no  want  is  known — 
Under  the  splendor  of  His  throne. 


NEBRASKA-1866. 

THE  virgin  of  the  wilderness, 

She  sits  upon  her  hills  alone  ; 
Loose  sprigs  of  cedar  in  her  hair, 
A  vine-wreath  round  her  zone ; 
As  gray-eyed. Pallas  pure  and  free, 
Expectant  of  the  things  to  be. 
No  robe  of  art  in  pliant  fold 
Wraps  her  deep  bosom  from  the  cold, 
Nor  rustling  veil,  nor  cheap  disguise, 
Conceals  the  freshness  of  her  eyes. 
Beneath  her  feet  an  hundred  rills 
Flash,  singing  to  the  naked  hills ; 
And  forest-belted  rivers  glide 
Through  prairie  valleys,  warm  and  wide. 
Not  hers  are  breadths  of  palm  or  pine, 
Or  sands  of  gold,  or  mountain  mine, 


90  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Or  dizzy  steeps,  or  barren  rocks, 

But  farm-land  vales  and  grass  for  flocks  ; 

And  over  her,  spanned  in  splendor,  rise 
Mild,  changeful  depths  of  cheerful  skies. 

She  looks  across  her  vacant  lands, 

And  feels  a  virgin's  conscious  shame  ; 
Yet  not  with  her  to  shape  the  past — 

Oh,  not  with  her  the  blame  ! 
She  smiles  benign  on  every  guest, 
And  proffers  shelter,  food,  and  rest. 
To  empires  thronged  with  men,  afar, 
To  states  where  discord  dwells,  and  war, 
She  calls,  and  shows  her  ample  bound, 
And  peace  within,  and  peace  around. 
To  families  distressed  and  poor, 
To  restless  sage  and  o'ertasked  boor, 
To  broken  health  and  courage  spent, 
To  all  the  sons  of  discontent, 
Where'er  they  pine,  whate'er  they  be, 
She  cries,  "  Be  thine  a  homestead  free — 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  91 

A  lordly  right  of  wealthy  land, 

And  health,  ease,  quiet.     At  my  hand 

Receive  the  cool,  sustaining  hours, 
And  energize  thy  weakened  powers." 

She  knows  that  she  was  born  to  be 

The  mother  of  a  mighty  race  : 
Heroic  sons  whom  reverence  seeks — 

Daughters  to  wear  all  grace  ; — 
That  on  her  soil  there  yet  must  rise 
Whatever  prospects  good  men  prize  : 
The  pure  church,  up  whose  heaven-topped  spire 
Creeps  the  long  sunset's  lingering  fire  ; 
The  college  in  whose  reverend  shade 
Unpolished  youths  are  Grecians  made  ; 
And  tasteful  homes  ;  and  those  calm  keeps 
Where  musing  memory  broods  and  weeps. 
She  knows,  elate,  that  she  was  born 
To  blend  the  sunset  with  the  morn  ; 
To  add  new  vigor  to  the  chain 
That  links  the  mountain  to  the  main  : 


92  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Till,  growing  greater  and  more  great, 
She  sits  the  peer  of  every  state ; 

And  all  shall  love  and  call  her  blest — 
The  virgin  Mother  of  the  West. 


THE  MISSOURI. 

i. 

WHO  shall  sing  the  song  of  the  River — 
Channel  of  Empire,  Highway  of  God, 
That  from  the  depths  under  far  northern  mountains- 
Sunless  and  cold  as  the  caves  of  the  sea — 
Riseth  Titanic;  grand' monarch  of  Rivers  ? 
Strong  in  its  birth,  every  league  it  grows  stronger ; 
Cleaveth  the  land  into  wide,  blooming  valleys  ; 
Parteth  asunder  the  hills  from  each  other ; 
Mineth  the  forest  to  drift  it  away, 
Or  fix,  like  a  spear  in  couch  for  a  tilt, 
The  huge  woodland  monarch,  a  desperate  sawyer/ 
To  vex  the  thin  keels  on  the  pathway  of  commerce. 

II. 

Restless  forever  and  shifting  its  current — 
Emblem  of  Time  and  the  progress  of  nations — 
4* 


94  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Sec  how  it  rushes,  resistless,  unsparing, 
Onward,  right  onward,  rejoicing  in  might ! 
Tawny  and  rough  as  an  old  crouching  lion, 
Hark  !  how  it  roars  through  the  valleys  afar  ! 
Trust  not  its  temper  ;  'tis  best  at  betraying  : 
Never  it  sports  but  in  anger  and  fury. 
Sternly  in  earnest,  unstaying  in  purpose, 
Forward  it  sweeps  to  the  Gulf  of  the  Tropics. 
Not  by  its  islands  a  moment  delays  it ; 
Not  by  the  shadows  that  lurk  by  the  shore  ; 
Straight  as  an  arrow  that  flies  to  its  target, 
•    Hastes  it  right  on,  as  'twere  bent  upon  Duty. 
Hastes  !  and  no  dimple  or  low-rippling  laughter 
Answers,  seductive,  the  bright  glance  of  noon, 
But  always  volcanic,  it  bursts  in  fierce  eddies, 
And  tumbles  and  surges  in  long-heaving  billows, 
And  crumbles  and  buries  the  banks  that  would  hold  it. 

III. 

Master  it  is  of  the  broad  Mississippi — 
Paramount  lord  of  that  good-natured  flood  ! 


NEBRASKA  LEGEXDS.  95 

Grasps  the  strong  affluent  as  athlete,  or  savage  ; 
Fixes,  exultant,  its  serf-mark  of  service — 
Dark,  dirty-yellow,  the  sands  of  the  uplands. 
Thence  to  the  Gulf  descending,  it  welters 
Through  the  fat  bottoms  that  lie  to  the  Sun 
Fervid  as  Dana?  to  love-freighted  gold-showers, 
And  as  black  Egypt  propitiously  fruitful. 
In  its  deep  bosom,  far  out  to  the  Delta 
Bears  it  the  soils  of  the  lands  there  uprising — 
Lands  to  be  covered  by  numerous  people 
Fast  as  the  sea  recedes,  or  the  earthquake 
Heaves  the  low  bars  into  long,  level  stretches — 
Tame  to  the  eye,  but  surpassingly  fertile. 

IV. 

Type  of  my  country,  the  mighty,  the  chainless, 
Heir  of  the  best  and  the  worst  in  all  ages — 
Splendor  and  turbulent  license  of  Greece — 
Roll  on  forever,  majestic,  unshackled, 
Beaching  afar,  through  the  hills  and  the  prairies, 
Thy  bountiful  arms,  the  bonds  of  our  Union  ! 


96  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Bear  to  the  ocean  the  wealth  of  a  region 

Vaster,  and  richer  by  nature,  than  Europe  ; 

Pour  through  the  land  beneficent  commerce — 

Parent  of  art  that  is  lovely  and  lasting ; 

Bind  in  firm  concord  the  states  once  dissevered  ; 

Untangle  base  interests: — the  interests  conflicting, 

Till  from  the  Delta  afar  to  thy  fountains 

One  patriot  mind  is  wholly  pervasive. 

But,  should  this  people  be  prone  to  rebellion, 

Heedless  of  freedom,  honor,  and  right, 

Rise  up  from  thy  channel  in  terror  a  deluge ; 

O'erwhelm  the  broad  fields,  the  opulent  cities  ; 

Destroy  the  promoters  of  public  disaster, 

And  roll  on  in  gloom,  vast,  mournful,  and  shoreless, 

God  only  beholding,  the  Judge  and  Avenger. 

1865. 


GRAPING. 

DOWN  by  the  dull  Cahokia, 

Just  back  from  a  sandy  shore, 
You  and  I  went  a-graping, 

In  the  pleasant  days  of  yore. 
We  sat  in  the  glancing  shadows, 

Or  roamed  in  the  open  sun  ; 
But  of  grapes — alas  !  my  darling — 

We  fetched  not  a  single  one. 

Our  baskets  came  back  empty,* 

But  our  hearts  were  full  of  dreams, 
Inwrought  with  the  warm  October 

And  the  sunset's  mellow  beams. 
O  sweet  through  the  fading  grasses 

Wandered  the  wind's  low  moan, 
And,  piping  their  cheerful  signals, 

Went  birds  to  a  summer  zone. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Your  hand  in  my  own  was  resting, 

But  few  were  the  words  we  spoke ; 
And  our  pitiless  companions 

Shot  at  us  many  a  joke. 
But  little  we  cared,  my  darling  ; 

We  had  plighted  our  secret  truth, 
And  the  world  seemed  a  purple  vine-land, 

Hung  full  for  the  wants  of  youth. 

Then,  ere  the  leaves  had  fallen, 

Or  cold  blew  the  northern  gale — 
Ere  the  sun  swam  low  in  the  tropics, 

Or  the  skies  were  chilly  and  pale, 
The  villagers  all  came  trooping — 

The  greatest  as  well  as  the  least— 
To  hear  our  vow's  confession 

Before  the  surpliced  priest. 

And  out  through  Autumn's  glories, 

Or  ever  the  day  was  done, 
We  had  crossed  broad  river  and  prairie, 

In  the  track  of  the  hazy  sun. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  99 

And  the  still  night  closed  around  us, 

And  Dian  smiled  bright  above 
Our  shrine  of  the  perfumed  Hymen, 

And  the  sacrifice  of  love. 

Oh,  swift  the  years  as  the  passage 

Of  pigeons  with  silvery  wings  ; 
And  deep  in  their  silence  is  hidden 

All  tender  and  holy  things — 
The  smiles,  the  kisses,  the  rapture, 

The  sighs,  the  unsealing  of  tears, 
The  darkness  that  fills  with  amazement, 

The  light  in  the  west  that  cheers. 

They  are  full  of  children's  voices, 

And  songs  by  the  cradle  sung  ; 
Of  the  shadowy  gleam  of  faces — 

Forever  fair  and  young — 
That  paled  in  their  opening  promise, 

And  under  the  willows  hide. 
Ah,  Heaven  seems  far  less  distant 

Since  the  little  ones  have  died  ! 


100  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

And  once  again  we  are  graping, 

But  not  near  the  dear  old  home ; 
New  lands  are  ever  unstable — 

Their  people  like  Arabs  roam. 
We  follow  our  children  westward  ; 

They  will  follow  theirs  to  the  sea. 
Few  men  in  the  land  are  settled, 

Or  know  where  their  graves  shall  be. 

I  like,  in  the  mild  October, 

These  rides  in  the  country  air, 
The  plats  'neath  the  swaying  woodlands, 

And  the  sunlight  flickering  there. 
I  love  the  merry  laughter 

Of  the  groups  at  the  clustered  vine, 
And  the  glimpse  of  faces  rosy 

As  Moenads  flushed  with  wine. 

For,  like  a  wind  that  freshens 
One  drooping  and  moving  slow, 

These  things  throw  over  my  spirit 
The  spell  of  the  long-ago  ; 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  101 

And  I'm  proud  that  these  young  people, 

Like  those  of  our  youthful  days, 
Have  pleasure  in  simple  pleasures, 

And  love  the  old-fashioned  ways. 

But,  for  us,  the  scramble  is  ended, 

'Tis  time  to  be  sober  and  still ; 
We  are  nearing  the  mist-covered  river — 

Are  down  at  the  foot  of  the  hill. 
Our  baskets  have  ever  been  empty — 

A  trifle  our  slender  store ; 
Yet  only  for  you  and  the  children 

Have  I  ever  wished  for  more. 

I  hope,  when  the  final  summons 

Is  sped  from  the  ghostly  king, 
Afar  to  a  peaceful  country 

Together  our  souls  may  wing ; — 
Together  may  live  in  glory, 

And  round  us  the  children  play, 
As  once  in  the  long-gone  summers, 

Ere  some  were  taken  away. 


102  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

But  now,  my  arm  for  the  wagon  ! 

The  horses  are  placed  abreast, 
For  the  home-bound  sun  is  nearing 

His  gate  in  the  golden  west : 
And  the  wind,  with  murmur  tender,' 

Dies  out  in  a  long,  long  sigh ; 
And  the  bird  to  his  mate  is  calling 

That  the  chill,  dark  night  is  nigh. 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  STAG. 

THE  skies  are  bright  with  dewy  light ; 

The  gray  old  peaks  are  softly  glowing  ; 
The  hunter's  horn  rings  on  the  height," 
And  the  timid  deer,  in  wild  affright, 
Leaps  down  the  valley,  where  shades  of  night 

Under  rivers  of  mist  are  flowing. 

Away  below  the  fleet  hounds  go, 

Their  music  like  far  clarions  ringing ; 
Away  under  tree-boughs  pendant  low, 
Across  dim  meadows,  glimmering  slow 
To  a  hazy  dawn,  and  by  curve  and  flow 
Of  a  stream  in  its  rock-bed  singing. 

Now  there,  now  here — now  faint,  now  clear, 

The  echoes  of  the  hunt  are  flying. 
Too  quiet  seems  this  atmosphere 
For  a  skurrying  chase  of  sport  and  fear ; 


104  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

But  oh  !  a  ringing  shot  and  cheer, 
And  the  stag  is  down  and  dying. 

A  moment  dim  the  bright  hills  swim 

Past  eyes  that  gaze  with  weak  endeavor  ; 
Then  darkness  fills  their  azure  rim — 
The  tepid  airs  blow  chill  for  him — 
A  shudder  glances  from  limb  to  limb — 
And  his  flights  are  done  forever. 

But  sweet  its  note,  from  rhythmic  throat, 

The  hunter's  horn  is  gayly  flying  ; 
It  sails  through  glens,  o'er  peaks  remote, 
Its  silvery  echoes  backward  float 
Soft  as  Pan's  pipe,  or  pastoral  oat, 
Or  the  west  wind's  dreamy  sighing. 


TO  THE  SOUTH  WIND. 

On,  blandly  blow, 

South  Wind,  and  flow 
Along  these  barren  fields  of  snow, 

Till  melt  their  flakes, 

And  winter  takes 
His  homeward  flight  past  frontier  lakes. 

Disperse  his  chills  ! 

Release  the  rills, 
To  swirl  and  ripple  through  the  hills  ! 

Call  star-eyed  flowers 

To  deck  the  bowers, 
Through  which  shall  dance  the  twinkling  Hours. 

Waft  feathery  droves 
To  fill  our  groves 
With  nymphic  songs  and  fruitful  loves  ! 


105  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

From  vales  and  rocks 
Let  bleating  flocks 
Respond  afar  to  crowing  cocks  ! 

Bring  odorous  balm 
From  lands  of  palm, 

To  steep  my  soul  in  tropic  calm  ; 
Subdue  each  sense 
Overwrought,  intense, 

To  stillness  and  to  indolence  ! 

Then  let  me  lie 
Where  tall  pines  sigh, 

And  listen  as  thou  murmurest  by, 
Or  'neath  broad  vine 
Watch  shade  and  shine 

Flutter,  pursue,  and  intertwine, 

Like  human  fates 

That  mystery  mates 
In  troubled  flow  through  life's  estates — 

A  clouded  dance, 

A  swift  advance 
Through  trying  changes  of  mischance. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  107 

Dear,  mellow  chime 

Of  summer  time ! 
Blest  voice  of  that  entrancing  clime 

Where  never  beat 

The  angry  feet 
Of  icy  winds  and  Titan  sleet, 

Along  these  dells, 

Like  distant  bells 
Be  heard  again  thy  joyous  swells — 

Thy  flute-note  calls, 

Thy  breath  that  falls 
An  echo  from  heaven's  crystal  walls, 

Luring  afar 

From  moil  and  jar, 
To  heights  where  purple  dream-lands  are  ; 

Fore-running  peace 

And  fat  increase, 
And  all  that  gives  our  want  release. 

Prophet  of  wealth 
And  jocund  health — 


108  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Doer  of  charities  by  stealth, 

The  sick  e'er  bless 

Thy  soft  caress, 
And  grateful  smile,  and  suffer  less. 

Young  children's  feet 

Through  fields  and  street 
Bound  playful  forth  thy  play  to  meet ; 

And  fond  youths  vie, 

'Neath  moon-lit  sky, 
Which  best  may  shine  in  Beauty's  eye. 

Sitting  at  ease, 

The  old  man  sees 
Thy  billowy  sporting  on  the  leas, 

Till,  with  like  roll, 

Beyond  control, 
The  past  flows  backward  through  his  soul. 

Thy  gentle  airs, 
Beguiling  cares, 
Draw  pure  souls  upward  unawares  ; 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  1Q9 

Through  willowy  wave 
Thy  lonely  stave 
Sighs,  like  a  mourner,  o'er  the  grave. 

No  tyrant  thou, 

"With  iron  brow 
And  force  to  bend — no  matter  how  ! 

No  blustering  knave 

To  roar  and  rave, 
And  prove  to  worms  that  thou  art  brave ! 

Heaven's  blessed  child, 

Low-voiced  and  mild, 
Thou  teachest  men  ambition-wild, 

That  who  do  most 

At  duty's  post, 
Ask  notice  least,  make  least  of  boast ; 

And  courteous  move, 
Intent  to  prove 

The  wise  omnipotence  of  love  ; 
5 


HO  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

Their  faith  their  cheer — 
And  bright  and  clear 
Their  names  shall  at  the  last  appear. 

So,  South  Wind,  blow, 

And  cheerily  flow 
Along  these  barren  fields  of  snow  : 

Flow  like  sweet  rhymes  ; 

Bring  happier  times, 
Dear  angel  of  celestial  climes  ! 


RALLYING  SONG-1864 

UP,  Freemen  of  the  Northland — 

Up,  for  your  country  calls  ! 
The  foe  hovers  near  your  border — 
His  foot  on  the  Fatherland  falls. 
Is  this  an  hour  for  wrangling  ? 
It  is  crime  to  bandy  words. 
Go,  harness  your  steeds  for  the  battle  ! 
Flash  forth  your  unpitying  swords  ! 
Clang  the  bells,  and  toll  them  ! 
Rattle  the  drums,  and  roll  them  ! 
Wave  the  banners,  and  lustily  shout 
To  the  laggards  at  home,  "  Turn  out !  Turn  out !  " 

Stand  forth,  as  your  sires  before  you, 

Close-ranked  in  dreadful  might ! 
And  hurry  away  to  the  conflict — 


112  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

Your  war-cry,  "  God  and  the  right !  " 
Must  the  nation  fall  1     Let  its  crash 

Be  unheard  for  your  widows'  crying  ; 
Let  it  sink  to  the  booming  of  cannon, 
And  die  in  the  groans  of  the  dying. 
Mantle  your  bells,  and  toll  them  ! 
Muffle  your  drums,  and  roll  them  ! 
While  earth  lays  bare  her  motherly  breast, 
And  gathers  her  heroes  to  gory  rest. 


THE  UNKNOWN  SAIL  AT 
NANTUCKET. 

FROM  out  the  indeterminable  distance 

There  comes  a  sail 
That,  moving  landward — urged  by  joint  persistence 

Of  tide  and  gale — 

Flies  o'er  the  tract  of  intervening  ocean, 

A  stately  thing, 
As  floats  a  hawk  in  heaven  without  a  motion 

Of  plume  or  wing. 

And  while  we  wait  to  learn  her  name  and  story, 

And  what  prevails — 
Or  haply  pleasure,  gain,  or  dream  of  glory, 

To  lift  her  sails, 


114  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

She  shifts  her  course,  and,  gliding  past  our  island, 

Is  swift  withdrawn, 
Till  her  dim  topsail  looms  like  some  far  highland, 

And  then  is  gone. 

> 

But  the  gray  "billows,  with  unceasing  motion 

And  utterance  lone, 
From  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ancient  ocean 

Give  back  a  moan 

That  bodies  forth  a  sense  of  separation 

None  may  elude, 
The  long  monotony  and  expiration 

Of  solitude. 

Thus,  on  the  highways  marked  by  play  or  duty, 

We  come  and  go, 
And  past  us  eyes  that  speak,  and  forms  of  beauty, 

Glide  to  and  fro. 

But,  while  we  turn  to  reach  a  hand,  or  utter 

Some  word  of  grace, 
They  swiftly  pass  and  leave,  with  just  a  flutter, 

An  empty  space. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  115 

Vainly  we  cry,  "  Who  are  these  ? "     "  Whence  depart 
ing?" 

And  "  Whence  were  they  ?  " 
Just  this  is  clear  :  across  our  pathway  starting, 

They  speed  away. 

And  be  their  lives  attractive  as  their  presence, 

Or  flushed  with  shame  ; 
And  be  their  homes  with  sorrow  or  with  pleasance, 

'Tis  all  the  same. 

They  are  to  us  henceforth  as  memories  only 

That  dimmer  grow — 
As  songs  that  sink  to  echoes  faint  and  lonely, 

Then  cease  to  flow. 

Or  as  the  ship  that  with  majestic  motion 

Drew  near  the  shore, 
And  made  no  port ;  but  the  cold,  restless  ocean 

Moaned  as  before. 


FAIR  AND  FRAIL. 

"  FAIR  and  Frail !  "  the  people  say  ; 

"  Fair  and  Frail— a  child  of  sin  !  " 
Manhood,  jibing,  turns  away  ; 

Matrons  will  not  let  her  in. 

Not  a  friend  in  all  the  world  ! 

Whence  she  comes,  and  whither  goes, 
By  life's  tempests  whipped  and  whirled, 

Not  a  blameless  Christian  knows. 

Must  she  pillow  in  the  street  ? 

Tender  child,  the  nights  are  cold  ! 
Doubtless  some  will  guide  her  feet 

To  the  harlot's  ghastly  fold. 

Where,  I  wonder,  was  her  home  1 
Where  are  father's,  mother's  care  1 


118  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

From  their  harshness  did  she  roam 
Forth  to  meet  the  ready  snare  1 

See,  a  shadow  fills  her  eyes, 

And  her  face  is  wan  with  thought ! 

Does  she  blame  the  holy  skies 
For  the  hardness  of  her  lot  ? 

Does  she  breathe  a  weary  prayer 
Sometimes  in  her  sinful  breast — 

Wishful  of  Christ's  pitying  care, 
Wishful  of  His  sovereign  rest  ? 

She  is  human — what  are  we  ? 

Who  may  hope,  unless  forgiven, 
E'er  a  better  life  to  see, 

E'er  to  gain  a  perfect  heaven  ? 

Man  awards  her  scorn  for  wrong ; 

Matrons  fear  her  wicked  ways  : 
Peaceful  homes  to  these  belong — 

Hers  are  sinful  nights  and  days. 

Why,  good  people,  hold  her  vile, 
Wink,  and  whisper  low  her  name, 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  119 

When  you  flatter,  fawn,  and  smile 

On,  the  wretch  who  wrought  her  shame  ? 

Have  you  thought  who  cursed  her  so  ? — 
Dragged  her  down  from  innocence  ? — 

Sought  her  love  to  work  her  woe  ? — 
Fooled  her  by  a  vain  pretence  ? 

Seek,  unmask  him,  cast  him  forth  ! 

Let  him  feel  how  foul  his  wrong ! 
Place  him  by  his  proper  worth — 

Devils  not  with  men  belong  ! 

But  for  her — hope's  trusting  child — 

Christians,  open  hand  and  heart ! 
Fear  not  you  to  be  defiled, 

When  you  act  your  Master's  part ! 

He  who  once  with  sinners  kept, 
And  from  none  His  love  withdrew, 

E'en  for  her  He  prayed  and  wept, 

And  would  save  her.     But  would  you  ? 


THE  FORGOTTEN   POET. 

'Tis  a  ballad  from  Percy's  Reliques, 

Written  hundreds  of  years  ago  ; 
But  the  head  that  planned,  and  the  hand  that  wrote, 

Forgotten,  in  dust  are  low. 

O  * 

The  song  goes  on  with  the  ages, 

And  earns  well-merited  fame  ; 
But  no  one  asks  where  the  Singer  lies  dead, 

Or  seeks  to  revive  his  name. 

Yet  sweet  must  have  been  the  spirit 

Could  make  a  song  that  will  live  ; 
From  stores  more  ample  than  he  can  impart, 

Each  gives  what  he  has  to  give. 

But  little,  perchance,  it  matters, 

When  any  thing  noble  is  done, 
That  men,  admiring,  shall  speak  in  praise, 

Or  a  wreath  of  bays  be  won. 


122  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

And  one  who  has  ended  his  mission, 
And  gone  to  an  honored  sleep, 

Oh,  what  can  he  care  for  an  empty  name, 
That  struggles  a  place  to  keep  ? 

Enough  it  is  for  the  Singer 

That  his  song  has  been  well  sung  ; 

That  it  lingers  to  lighten  the  sorrowful  heart, 
Or  trips  on  the  cheerful  tongue. 

Enough  it  is  for  the  Singer 

That  God,  whose  Singer  he  is, 
Has  given  him  vision,  and  strength  of  speech, 

And  filled  him  with  melodies  ; 

And  taken  him  up  some  higher. 

Where  the  Singers'  harps  are  gold  ; 
Where  the  singing  is  never  ended,  and  where 

There  is  no  one  forgotten  or  old. 


TO  ZEPHYE. 

DAXCE  to  me,  sing  to  me ; 

Swift  Sweet,  and  fling  to  me 
Kisses  more  soft  than  the  leaf  of  the  rose ; 

Ripple,  and  wing  to  me ; 

Speed,  speed,  and  "bring  to  me 
Secrets  too  dainty  for  words  to  disclose. 

Fondly,  0  glide  to  me; 

Arms  open  wide  to  me  ; 
Pour  round  my  being  thy  rapturous  grace ; 

Lean  on,  confide  to  me  ; — 

What !  art  denied  to  me  ? 
Sweet,  I  am  faint  for  the  "breath  of  thy  face. 

Zephyr,  come  nigh  to  me  ; 
Lisp  to  me,  sigh  to  me ; 


124  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 


Tell  me  thy  passion ;  'twill  lighten  thy  heart. 

Vain  is  my  cry  to  thee  ; 

Still  wilt  go  by  to  me  ? 
Well,  then,  I  scorn  thee  !     Poor  trifler,  depart 


MISTHER  OTLANAGAN'S  ADVOISE 
TIL  A  CUNTHRYMAN. 

OH,  cum  til  Ameriky,  Paddy, 

No  matther  how  good  ycr  istate  is; 
'Tis  a  land  wicl  a  tech  uv  the  carn-joos, 

The  chisest  uv  cabbige  and  'taties. 
A  shanty  here  rints  for  jist  nothin', 

Or  a  cellar  that's  nice  for  a  laddy ; 
An'  the  pigs  runs  roun'  loose  in  the  night-time, 

Gruntin',  "  Ate  me,  an'  thanks  til  ye,  Paddy." 

As  for  biznis,  'tis  plinty  an'  aisy  ; 

Ye  kin  live  like  a  prince  or  a  Turruk  ; — 
Unless  they  bring  in  thim  low  Chinese, 

There'll  allus  be  plinty  of  wurruk. 
There's  railroads  forever  is  bildin', 

An'  conthracts  is  given  away — 
Jobs  fatther  than  iver  ye  dhramed  uv, 

That  clare  ye  two  dollars  a  day. 


126  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Yere  a  vother  as  soon  as  ye  cum  here — 

Invited  to  parties  and  balls  ; 
An'  they  sind  ye  right  aff  til  the  Congriss — 

An'  the  jails  all  has  tumble-down  walls. 
Ye  kin  do  as  ye  plase,  an',  be  jabers, 

There's  nothin'  on  airth  to  be  fear  in' ; 
Ivry  sowl  here  igspicts  to  git  office, 

An'  smiles  to  the  igziles  uv  Erin. 

May  the  Vargin  look  swate  to  ould  Ireland, 

An'  dhrive  from  it  Inglish  an'  ill : 
I've  taken  an  oath  uv  alleginse, 

But  I  am  an  Oirishman  still. 
An'  this  is  the  r'ason  I'm  lovin' 

An'  praisin'  this  land  uv  the  free ; 
Ye  kin  swarc  iv'ry  day  to  be  loyal, 

An'  yit  a  true  Fenian  be. 

So  cum  til  Ameriky,  Paddy  ; 

Bring  Biddy,  an'  all  uv  the  brats  ! 
Giv'  yer  lan'lord  a  taste  uv  shillalah — 

Turn  over  yer  hovel  to  rats  ! 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  127 

Bring  Biddy,  the  je^Yil — och,  bliss  her  ! — 

II ir  ize  like  a  diamon'  shine  ; 
Her  breath  is  as  swate  as  a  posy, 

Her  lips  is  as  lushus  as  wine. 


LONGING. 

THE  leaf  is  yellowing  on  the  tree, 

The  grass  is  fading  at  my  feet ; 
The  Sad  wind  murmurs  from  the  sea 
Of  things  that  nevermore  shall  be, 

And  cold  and  slow  the  wavelets  beat. 

Far  off  against  the  sullen  cloud 

A  misty  sail  a  moment  stands, 
Like  a  pale  ghost  that  in  its  shroud 
One  glimpse  of  mortals  is  allowed, 

And  then  must  flit  to  shadowy  lands. 

Oh,  sail  far-bound  across  the  sea, 

Would  that  my  fate  were  linked  with  thine  ;- 
That  brighter  skies  these  eyes  might  see, 
And  bloom-clad  shores,  where  misery 

Leaves  not  on  heart  or  brow  a  line  ! 


130  NEBRASKA   LEGEXDS. 

That  I  might  clasp  the  pallid  hands 

Whose  loving  pressure  thrills  me  yet ; 
Might  stand  beside  her  where  she  stands, 
And  wander  with  her  through  fair  lands, 
And  all  my  solemn  cares  forget ! 


NEBRASKA,  DEAR  NE 
BRASKA! 

NEBRASKA,  dear  Nebraska ! 

Thy  hills  are  far  away, 
Thy  bowery  vales,  where  lingers 

The  long-enamored  day. 
But  sweet  the  scented  west-wind, 

As  flute-notes  o'er  the  sea, 
Ripples  from  yonder  sunset, 

And  tells  my  heart  of  thee. 

What  though  day's  dying  glories 

Last  crown  the  mountain  lone, 
And  many  a  land  has  prospects 

Far  lovelier  than  thine  own  1 
I  roam  by  mount  and  river. 

I  pass  by  lake  and  lea, 
To  note  their  mingled  beauties, 

Then  homeward  turn  to  thee. 


132  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

And  still  the  sea  may  thunder 

Far-breaking  on  the  shore, 
And  still  the  windy  pine-woods 

Send  back  responsive  roar  ; 
And  cool  beneath  the  mountain 

May  lie  the  azure  lake, 
And  down  the  rocky  ledges 

The  silvery  cataract  break. 

Far  dearer  are  thy  meadows, 

Thy  rounded  grassy  hills, 
Thy  sandy-bedded  rivers, 

Thy  shallow,  reedy  rills. 
For  not  a  land  is  lying 

Beneath  the  heaven's  broad  dome, 
Can  proffer  such  contentment 

As  fills  the  land  of  home. 

Oh,  there's  a  spot  made  holy, 
Deep  in  thy  sheltering  breast — 

A  spot  of  calm  seclusion 

Where  loved  ones  are  at  rest ; 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  133 

And  there,  when  wanderings  over, 

And  gone  life's  little  day, 
May  I  with  them  be  lying, 

And  mingle  clay  with  clay, 

6 


LOTHAIR. 

WRITTEN   IN   MY   COPY    OF   DISRAELI'S   LATE    NOVEL. 

I  THANK  thce,  Premier,  in  my  deepest  heart 

For  this  profound  and  masterly  Lothair  ! 

'Tis  all  as  it  should  be,  except  that  Clare 
Arundel.     Pity  it  seems  with  her  to  part 
So  sadly  ; — she,  the  gem  of  all  this  art ! 

For  neither  Theodora,  Corisande, 

Nor  any  other  lady,  sweet,  or  grand, 
Brings  so  much  beauty,  passion,  to  Love's  mart, 

As  she  who  wears  the  Jesuit's  slimy  coils, 
And  mars  with  sable  weeds  her  beauteous  youth. 

Thus  hath  it  often  been.     I've  seen  the  toils 
Of  superstition  bind  some  maiden's  truth 

On  whom  men  looked  desiring :  love  used  foils 
The  best  went  by,  moved  to  regretful  ruth. 


MAGDALEN. 

A  BURNING,  weary  waste  of  years, 
A  torture  of  disease  and  fears. 
And  yet,  alas  !  not  many  tears  : 

The  heart  must  feel  ere  eyes  can  fill. 
As  farther  and  fainter  the  strokes  be 
Of  bells  on  ships  that  sail  to  sea, 
So  humbled  conscience  spoke  to  me 

With  lessening  voice,  and  then  was  still. 

Ah,  I  have  known  fierce  greed  and  hate, 
And  pride  cold,  but  importunate, 
And  lust  that  never  would  abate, 

But  glowed  through  pain  a  fire  of  hell ; 
All  passions  M'ith  a  tooth  to  gnaw, 
Crimes,  too,  that  skulk  at  thought  of  law, 
And  leave  the  body  a  sapless  straw, 

A  moving  mummy,  a  soulless  shell. 


138  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

And  yet  no  blood  is  on  my  hands  ; 
No  pale  ghost  ever  near  me  stands, 
With  eyes  that  burn  like  fiery  brands, 

My  fitful  slumbers  to  affright. 
What  I  have  done — well,  I  have  done  ; 
But  deadlier  sentence  might  be  won, 
And  redder  currents  might  have  run 

Across  these  hands  so  thin  and  white. 

For  I  have  sometimes  brooded  much 
On  vengeance  ;  and  have  leaped  to  clutch 
A  dagger  keen  and  cold  to  touch, 

With  will  at  point  to  give  the  blow. 
But  force  unseen  curbed  headlong  wrath ; 
The  viper  slid  across  my  path, 
Nor  knew  how  close  for  fatal  math 

Death  followed,  vengeful  of  my  woe. 

God  lets  him  live.     God's  ways  are  good, 
Though  not  by  me  well  understood. 
Why  prospers  the  man  ?     My  orphanhood- 
Why  was  it  defenceless  and  defiled  ? 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  139 

I  know  I  once  was  pure  as  snow, 
My  heart  as  light  as  winds  that  blow, 
And  cheek  as  tender  as  morning  glow, 
And  eyes  not  fierce  as  now,  but  mild. 

Then,  earth  seemed  very  clean  and  sweet ; 
Where  things  made  single  moved  to  meet, 
A  sure  perfection  to  complete, 

And  nights  were  short,  and  days  were  long. 
A  good  man  reared  me  as  his  own  ; 
By  his  revered  name  I  was  known, 
And  ever  around,  like  leaves,  were  strewn 

Comfort  and  culture,  books  and  song. 

Till  life  moved  to  a  quicker  strain ; 
I  loved,  and  seemed  beloved  again ; 
But  love  grew  thorny  and  full  of  pain, 

And  what  was  asked,  alas  !  was  given. " 
It  was  not  passion  broke  my  heart ; 
I  thought  to  act  a  wifely  part, 
Nor  ever  dreamed  my  lover's  art 

Was  the  fashion  of  hell  and  not  of  heaven  ; 


140  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Till,  when  our  nuptial  hour  was  set, 

The  groom  came  not.     But  guests  were  met, 

And  many  spoke  a  cold  regret, 

And  hoped  to  see  me  yet  a  "bride. 
But  long  ere  dawn  that  cruel  day 
The  man  had  fled — none  knew  what  way  ; 
And  T,  a  cast-off  thing,  must  stay, 

Nor  find  a  shelter  at  his  side. 

Months  rolled  along,  and  with  them  came 
A  consciousness  that  burned  like  flame 
Within  my  mind.     I  knew  that  shame 

Must  henceforth  be  my  hapless  lot. 
I,  too,  took  wings,  and  blindly  fled  : 
Whither,  I  cared  not.     Let  day  shed 
No  beam  upon  me.     Count  me  dead  ; 

And  be  my  name  by  all  forgot. 

My  child — thank  God  ! — brief  space  did  see  : 
I  was  so  full  of  misery, 
Small  vital  force  in  him  could  be. 
He  sleeps,  a  head-stone  at  his  grave  ; 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  141 

Wages  of  shame  procured  that  stone  ; 
And  harlot-fingers  there  have  grown 
Sweet  flowers,  that  summer-long  have  blown, 
And  willows  that  toss  like  a  wandering  wave. 

Years  now  I've  wandered  far  and  wide, 
Restless,  and  nowhere  can  abide  ; 
And  once,  upon  an  eventide, 

Far  in  the  wrest  the  man  I  met. 
His  eye  was  musing,  deep,  and  cold — 
A  moment  held,  then  sidewise  rolled. 
I  doubt  if  he  knew  me,  I'm  grown  so  old ; 

But  he  seems  young  as  ever  yet. 

I  found  his  home  when  darkness  came — 
A  home  well  worthy  of  the  name, 
Since  not  for  him,  as  me,  was  shame ; — 

His  sin  concealing  he  passed  for  wise. 
There,  through  a  shutter,  streaming  bright, 
Flamed  forth  upon  the  moonless  night 
The  peaceful  glory  of  a  light, 

And  set  a  picture  to  my  eyes  : 
6* 


142  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

A  fond,  young  wife  as  sweetly  fair 
As  any  creature  of  the  air  ; 
And,  smiling,  innocent  of  care — 

Her  sky  of  happiness  nnfiecked  ; — 
Smiling  on  him  who  did  me  wrong, 
As,  with  a  gentle  arm  and  strong, 
He  danced  his  "boy  to  merry  song, 

Nor  my  near  presence  did  suspect. 

The  boy,  he  wore  his  father's  face — 
The  same  bold  carriage,  yet  with  grace, 
That  to  his  mother  I  could  trace — 

And  how  could  I  but  hate  that  child  ? 
I  thought  upon  a  far-ofF  grave — 
A  child  that  never  pleasure  gave — 
A  child  no  father  sought  to  save — 

On  whom  its  mother  never  smiled. 

And  who  was  she  who  sat  that  night 
Within  the  warm  and  lovely  light, 
In  womanhood  complete  and  white, 

So  happy  with  him  I  should  have  loved  ? 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  143 

Why  stood  I  in  the  frosty  gloom, 
Foul  as  a  creature  of  the  tomb, 
And  saw  another  in  the  room 

From  whence,  to  this,  I  was  removed  ? 

My  guardian  taught  me.  "  God  is  just ;  " 

Believe  it  I  am  sure  I  must, 

Since  things  unknown  we  take  on  trust ;] 

But  justice  sometimes  lingers  long. 
I  thought,  for  many  days,  to  be 
The  avenger  of  my  misery, 
And  give  that  man  what  he  gave  me — 

The  hell,  to  which  we  both  belong. 

But,  as  I  hid  from  night  to  night, 

Some  spell  my  purpose  seemed  to  blight ; 

Some  thought  my  weak  heart  would  affright, 

Till  to  red  vengeance  I  grew  loth. 
Let  him  enjoy  what  fate  endears  ; 
Let  no  want  blight  his  infants'  years  ; 
His  wife's  sweet  eyes  be  free  of  tears  ; 

Alone  I  suffer  enough  for  both. 


144  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

So,  like  a  wolf,  I  slipped  away, 
And  they — are  happy,  I  dare  say  ; 
But  I — I  live  as  best  I  may, 

And  kill  the  time  that  moves  too  slow. 
Sometimes  I'm  here,  sometimes  I'm  there ; 
But  ever  at  a  fight  with  care, 
And  ever  striving  to  look  fair  ; 

And  life  is  short,  I'm  glad  to  know. 

For  no  man  looks  with  sympathy, 
Or  ever  speaks  true  words  to  me : 
Yet  do  I  have  much  flattery 

And  looks  that  sometimes  pass  for  love. 
But  sneers  may  follow  the  softest  sigh  ; 
And,  passion  glutted,  the  melting  eye 
Seeks  other  faces  as  I  go  by, 

Or  studies  the  street,  or  roofs  above. 

So  let  it  be.     While  sands  may  run, 
I  shall  be  outcast  and  undone — 
The  wife  of  many,  not  of  one — 
A  thing  few  pity,  and  all  blame. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  145 

Fair  dames,  I  beg  you,  hurry  fast ; 
And,  gentles,  ah,  as  you  go  past, 
Let  virtuous,  stony  looks  be  cast 
On  her  you  fee  for  hours  of  shame  ! 

I'm  so  accustomed  to  all  scorn, 
Nothing  can  make  me  more  forlorn, 
Except  it  be  that  I  adorn 

A  body  daily  growing  old. 
Oh,  much  I  doubt,  when  beauty's  gone, 
And  I  am  haggard,  weak,  and  wan, 
If  fish  may  in  my  net  be  drawn — 

If  I  may  cope  with  want  and  cold. 

Perchance,  when  time  shall  come  to  weep, 

It  may  be  best  to  go  to  sleep : 

I  know  a  stream  that's  swift  and  deep, 

Not  far  away  from  a  child's  grave. 
If  there  I  perish,  who  will  care  ? 
What  face  a  saddened  look  will  wear  ? 
The  world  has  many  like  me  to  spare — 

Too  many  for  each  a  tear  to  crave. 


146  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

I  sometimes  wish  a  virtuous  soul, 
With  boundless  lucre  at  control, 
Might  greatly  want  to  see  me  whole, 

Almost  as  once,  ere  days  of  shame  : 
Might  give  of  means  he  cannot  need, 
And  rear  a  home  to  house  and  feed 
Us  hardened  wretches,  and  would  plead 

There  with  us  in  his  Master's  name. 

But  this  is  idle — painful,  too. 

He  who  seeks  me  will  come  to  woo  : 

Inside  the  door  you'll  find  his  shoe, 

When  darkness  veils  the  stealthy  street. 
Would  he  might  come  while  yet  'tis  day, 
And  bear  this  suffering  frame  away, 
To  moulder  in  the  friendly  clay  ! 

And  what  is  future,  let  me  meet. 


RELIGIOUS  POEMS 


ASPIRATION. 

On,  to  be  holy,  as  Jesus  is  holy  ! 

Oh,  to  be  pure,  as  my  Saviour  is  pure  ! 
Growing,  through  patience,  more  humble,  more  lowly  ; 

Learning,  in  meekness,  to  toil  and  endure  ! 

Patient,  through  trial,  to  love  and  to  duty ; 

Cheerfully  bearing  life's  losses  and  pain ; 
Looking  above  for  fruition  of  beauty  ; 

Faithful  in  service  before  I  would  reign  ! 

Never  to  doubt,  since  my  dear  Lord  before  me 
Trod  the  rough  path  over  which  I  must  go  ; 

Never  to  fear  if  the  thunder  boom  o'er  me, 
Or  if  a  gale  from  Gethsemane  blow. 

But  as  a  city  that  shines  o'er  the  valleys, 
Beacon  to  pilgrims  perplexed  by  the  way, 


150  NEBRASKA   LEGENDS. 

True  to  my  Leader  wherever  He  rallies, 
Of  His  full  brightness  reflecting  some  raj  ; 

Let  me  remain,  till  the  Day  of  Thanksgiving 
Dawn  in  the  white  of  eternity  drest ; 

Uprightly,  blamelessly,  manfully  living, 

Then  peacefully  dying  ; — with  God  be  the  rest. 

1865. 


SAD  HEART,  SOW  IN  TEARS. 

SAD  heart,  sow  in  tears  : 

Gain  not  to  keep  ! 
God  tills  by  heart-aches 

Many  and  deep. 
Trust  and  believe  Him  ; 

Soon  you  shall  reap. 

Into  the  furrow 

Falls  the  bright  grain  ; 
Clouds  gather  over  it, 

Beats  the  wild  rain. 
When  comes  the  harvest. 

Great  is  the  gain. 

Sad  heart,  sow  in  tears 
Gain  not  to  keep  ! 


152  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Fierce  if  the  trial, 
Sweet  is  the  sleep. 

Rest  for  the  weary — 
Ah,  it  is  deep. 


IT  MATTERS  NOT. 

IT  matters  not — it  matters  not 

How  little  anxious  toil  can  give, 
Or  how  obscure  the  unyielding  lot 

Through  which  we  move  and  live. 
If  hearts  grow  gentle,  pure,  and  wise, 
Deriving  from  above  supplies 
To  guide  the  will  and  energies, 

What  else  may  be — it  matters  not. 

It  matters  not — it  matters  not 

If  friends  be  false  or  friends  be  true, 
Or  what  the  world  may  wish  or  wot/ 

Or  if  it  give  our  due. 
Each  soul  within  itself  contains 
A  separate  destiny,  whose  gains 
Are  some  of  peace,  but  more  of  pains  : 
So  let  all  be — it  matters  not. 


154  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

It  matters  not — it  matters  not 

If  times  wax  worse  as  they  advance ; 

If  fiercer  grows  the  war  of  thought, 
And  lewder  song  and  dance. 

Reforms  reach  but  the  single  mind  ; 

No  law  of  right  the  mass  can  bind  ; 

A  jewel  here  and  there  we  find  : 
What  others  are — it  matters  not. 

It  matters  not — it  matters  not 

If  measured  sands  are  wasting  fast ; 

If  soon  must  come  a  day  unsought — 
That  day,  for  us,  the  last. 

Since  all  that  moves  desire  or  pride 

Into  oblivion  must  subside  ; 

Eternity,  quick  open  wide — 

And  time's  poor  dream— it  matters  not. 


CHRISTMAS   EVE-1869 

COME,  sing  the  angels'  song  to-night ! 

That  song  forever  sweet,  as  when 
First  broke  from  out  the  starry  height 

"  Glory  to  God,  good-will  to  men." 
And  sing  as  love  prolongs  the  strain 

The  Mother  mild,  the  wondrous  birth 
Of  Him  who  plucked  the  thorn  from  pain, 

And  left  His  peace  with  sinful  earth. 

Long  past  His  sufferings  and  toil — 

The  bloody  death,  the  gloomy  grave — 
The  homeward  triumph  from  the  spoil 

Of  foes  too  fierce  for  men  to  brave. 
He  sits,  to-night,  the  King  of  Kings, 

Enthroned  above  the  throngs  of  light, 
Who  hide  their  faces  with  their  wings, 

And  chant  His  glory,  grace,  and  might. 


156  NEBRASKA  LEGEXDS. 

The  ages  draw  their  lingering  length — 

Their  flying  change  of  sun  and  shade ; 
And  hate  moves  nations  by  its  strength, 

And  weakness  is  of  power  afraid. 
Yet  not  reversed  our  God's  decree 

Foreshadowed  in  the  angels'  song, 
That  peace  upon  the  earth  shall  be, 

Good-will  henceforth  with  men  belong. 

In  humble  hearts, — no  matter  where, 

Nor  what  the  fortune  of  their  days, — 
Hearts  self-repressed  in  patient  prayer, — 

Hearts  all  unworldly  made  by  praise, — 
Are  depths  of  blessing  purely  fed 

By  hidden  force  of  changeless  love, 
That  make  the  life  by  mortals  led 

Content  as  angel-life  above. 

E'en  let  it  be  that  we  must  shed 
Sometimes  the  agonizing  tear ; 

That  past  low  mounds  our  feet  are  led, 
And  we  could  wish  the  dead  were  here  ! 


NEBRASKA   LEGEXDS.  157 

Let  wars  prevail,  and  scandal  rave  ; 

Let  there  be  poverty  and  loss  ; 
But  circumstance  can  not  enslave, 

Nor  peace  be  ruined  by  a  cross. 

The  outward  struggle,  inward  strife, 

Are  meant  for  high  development ; 
We  know  what  hand  directs  our  life — 

The  purpose  of  each  incident. 
And,  knowing  all,  we  murmur  not, 

But  bless  the  changeless,  sure  good-will 
That  portions  to  each  separate  lot^ 

What  best  each  separate  vice  may  kill. 

That  pledges  safety,  but  not  ease  ; 

Works  by  attrition,  not  by  rust ; 
And  brings  us  on,  by  slow  degrees, 

To  perfect  rest  and  higher  trust. 
We  know  the  hand,  we  bless  the  will ; 

Come  shade  or  shine,  come  tear  or  smile, 
All  things  work  good,  arid  none  bring  ill, 

For  love  is  near  us  all  the  while  ! 
7 


158  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

So  sing  we,  then,  this  festal  night, 

The  praise  of  Him  who  once  for  men 
Assumed  the  burden  and  the  blight, 

To  give  us  Eden  back  again. 
And  this  our  carol  should  express — 

With  this  begin  and  with  it  cease — 
He  took  our  flesh  our  lives  to  bless ; 

He  bears  our  load,  He  gives  us  peace. 


RELIGIOUS  DIVISIONS 

"  OF  old  things,  all  are  over-old  ; 

Of  good  things,  none  are  good  enough  ; — 
"We'll  show  that  we  can  help  to  frame 

A  world  of  other  stuff." 

WORDSWORTH. 

I. 

WHAT  might  be  done  for  earth,  could  man 
Irreverent  notions  put  away, 
And  feel  he  lives  but  to  OBEY — 

To  forward  Heaven's  well-ordered  plan  ! 

What  souls  might  be  reclaimed  and  saved  ! 
What  mental  darkness,  moral  blight, 
Wrould  be  transfigured  in  the  light 

That  slums  a  heart  by  self  depraved  ! 

Our  Lord  is  torn  by  wrangling  sects — 
His  Body  mangled  as  of  old  ;  * 

*  "  The  Church,  which  is  His  Body."— ST.  PAUL. 


160  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Each  sect  is  narrow,  pinched,  and  cold, 
And  none  its  wicked  part  suspects. 

For  each  vaunts  "  progress,"  and  asserts 
Its  large  improvement  on  the  past ; 
As  if  the  best  were  always  last, 

And  time-worn  things  have  least  deserts. 

As  if  what  Christ  himself  contrived 
Might  be  amended,  or  improved, 
Or  from  its  settled  function  moved, 

And  into  countless  Hydras  rived. 

And  feeling  is  put  forth  for  right ; 

Authority  provokes  a  sneer ; 

The  times  reject  an  overseer, 
Even  if  he  have  true  heavenly  might. 

"  Down  with  a  hero  !  "  is  the  call : 

"  Down  with  the  priest,  and  them  that  rule  ! 

The  formless  mob  shall  be  the  school 
From  whence  we  shape  our  dogmas  all !  " 

Thus  the  imperfect  is  a  power 

That  strives  to  mold  what  Christ  began  ; 


NEBRASKA   LEGENDS.  161 

And  creeds  are  made  to  fit  each  man, 
And  fall  an  endless,  dismal  shower. 

Dark,  hungry  souls  that  wait  for  truth 
While  parties  wrangle  and  deceive, 
Know  not,  alas  !  what  to  believe, 

And  perish  without  hope  or  ruth. 

But  this  is  safe  for  me,  I  know : 

To  cleave  to  forms  and  doctrines  old — 
To  grasp  them  with  a  firmer  hold  ; 

For  change  is  doubt,  and  doubt  is  woe. 

II. 

Thus  wrote  I  but  the  other  day, 

And  yet  it  was  four  years  ago : 

Time  passes  like  the  winds  that  blow — 

So  swift,  so  swift  it  hies  away. 

And  with  it  passes  hopes  and  fears — 
Opinions  pass,  or  suffer  change  ; 
The  soul  attains  a  wider  range, 

And  grows  more  tolerant  with  the  years. 

7* 


162  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

For,  after  all,  man  is  but  man  ; 

His  views  are  blindness  at  the  best : 
Not  here  are  certainty  and  rest, 

But  truth  has  many  sides  to  scan. 

The  bird  of  passage,  spring  by  spring, 
Comes  back  to  the  familiar  nest ; 
For  other  home  it  makes  no  quest, 

But  there  contented  folds  its  wing. 

And  we,  amid  ancestral  creeds 

Scarce  questioned,  mostly  take  a  place, 
Presuming  on  God's  equal  grace, 

And  blind  to  many  a  truth  that  pleads 

For  our  acceptance.     'Tis  not  well ! 
But  better  far  by  something  hold, 
Than  filled  with  doubt  and  questions  bold, 

That  savor  of  the  deepest  hell. 

For  One  who  yet  shall  come  is  Judge, 

And  knows  of  purpose,  strength,  and  will ; 
He  shall  the  faithful  hope  fulfil, 

And  His  bestowals  none  shall  grudge. 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  163 

And  He  shall  gather  in  His  hands 

Time's  tangled  threads  that  crosswise  run, 
And  of  His  people  make  but  one, 

To  serve  Him  in  His  heavenly  lands. 

III. 

Above  all  names  One  Name  is  set ; 

The  Crucified  is  King  alone  ; 

The  great  archangels  at  His  throne 
With  humble  reverence  oft  are  met. 

His  lightest  wish  is  their  command  ; 

They  speed  like  lightning  at  His  word  ; 

By  selfish  preference  undeterred, 
Their  movements  all  go  hand  in  hand  ; 

And  heaven  is  thus  a  heaven  indeed, 

And  all  the  worlds  have  certain  peace  ; 
But  truth  and  harmony  would  cease, 

Might  every  angel  frame  his  creed, 

Building  on  preference,  or  law 

Interpreted  by  his  sole  light — 


164  NEBRASKA  LEGENDS. 

Might  each  one  do  what  seemed  him  right, 
And  individual  inference  draw. 

One  rule,  and  only  one,  controls 

The  orbs  that  fill  unmeasured  space  ; 
And  scientists  like  action  trace 

In  natural  things  between  the  poles. 

Man  only  would  ignore  fixed  bounds, 
Suiting  his  action  to  self-will — 
Would  tasks  self-born  with  might  fulfil, 

And  leave  undone  what  God  propounds. 

IV. 

Divisions  are  the  seed  of  death ; 

They  change  to  comets  peaceful  stars, 
And  desolate  with  hateful  wars 

All  lands  where  sons  of  men  draw  breath. 

God's  kingdom  is  a  bond  of  peace, 
And  he  who  on  its  spirit  feeds, 
Will  leave  untouched  its  simple  creeds, 

That  faith  and  reverence  may  increase  ; 


NEBRASKA  LEGENDS.  165 

That  brotherhood  be  not  a  name, 

But  substance  felt  in  every  heart ; 

Since  good  men  held  by  faith  apart 
Are  ready  soon  with  words  of  blame 

And  enginery  of  hate  and  blood. 

The  principle  of  discord  lies 

In  what  disorders  and  defies 
The  visible  unity  of  the  good. 

Christ  left  His  laws  to  loyal  souls  ; 

He  left  His  kingdom  for  their  home  ; 

He  built  nor  sect,  nor  papal  Rome, 
Nor  gave  His  people  separate  goals  ; 

But  bade  them  harmonize,  and  strive 
In  one  sole  house  of  charity, 
One  kingdom  of  the  bound  but  free — 

Dead  to  themselves,  to  Him  alive. 


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